Stargate: Return of the Ancients, Season 1, 19,20
by Aer-ki Jyr
Summary: Episode, "Deja Vu" Part 1 and Part 2.... Year:2013
1. Chapter 1

Arin thrust his arm forward, palm up, and released a telekinetic blast toward Ryan's tumbling form. The Alterran flipped backwards onto his hands, his back bending at an impossible angle for a Human, and whipped his legs up over his head and into Bret's chest, knocking him backward as Arin's invisible blow sent him half tumbling to the side.

Ryan had felt the energy building in Arin and had produced a negation field around himself in time to absorb part of the blow, but not all of it. He fell onto his right knee and tumbled over laterally until he landed on his chest, momentarily knocking the wind out of him.

Even without breath, he glanced at Arin and pulled his feet out from under him. His cloned brother backbent and caught himself with his hands on the ground then whip kicked his feet up over him and back around to the ground where he took a guard stance, forearms out in front of him.

Ryan sucked in a quick breath and stabilized himself. He rolled up on his right shoulder and pushed himself up onto his feet one handed. He twirled about, arms spread, just in time to hit Bret squarely in the chest as his other brother tried to catch him off guard with his own telekinetic blast.

As Bret flinched backwards from the impact, Ryan bent down, gathered his knees beneath him, then launched upward in a massive jump…

He caught the railing of the catwalk above them in the Alterran-only training chamber and easily wicked himself up and over the edge where he looked back down on his twins as they came together, shoulder to shoulder beneath him, and telekinetically picked up and hurled several heavy, but soft cubes scattered around the chamber at him.

Ryan half extended his hand and stopped them midway…his energy-based skills were far beyond those of his clones and the rest of the Alterra, but even with his advantage he was having a hard time keeping his two opponents at bay.

Arin was the clone dedicated to studying and improving his hand to hand combat, while Bret had self-assigned himself to developing superior personal armor and weapons…the likes of which he now used on Ryan.

The original Stevenson dropped to a knee on the catwalk as he was caught by a widespread stun pulse from Bret's wrist blaster. The disabling energy fought to interrupt and overwhelm the impulses of his nervous system in a tug of war with Ryan's own internal purging wave. His body, ever more attuned to the flow of energy with each passing day, absorbed and flushed the stun blast in a cascade of static electricity redirected into the metal grating of the catwalk beneath him.

In the four seconds the process took, Arin had leapt up onto the catwalk and kicked into the side of Ryan's chest. He fell onto his side and suddenly found Arin on top of him, wresting for leverage.

A moment later Bret joined him and they pressed their elder brother to the ground…pinned. A second stun blast made sure he'd stay put.

Arin stood up and smiled above Ryan's prone form. "_Five/seven now_."

"_Two beats one any day_," Bret said, fist bumping Arin.

"_Ah_," Ryan moaned, purging the second stunblast and sitting up beneath their proud gazes. They were catching up.

"_Round 13_," Ryan said, focusing hard. He lifted both of the clones off their feet and threw them over the edge of the catwalk…where they nimbly regained their balance midair and landed on their feet.

* * *

"What are you doing here?" McKay asked Zelenka as he slipped into the seat in front of Rodney.

"The same reason you are, I imagine," the other scientist replied pithily. "Mereiov is instructing us in the basics of hyperspace travel."

"Even Lanteans," McKay said, crossing his arms and leaning back in his 'desk.'

Zelenka frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"Don't you just download everything you need," McKay said, pointing his index finger at his temple.

"Actually no," Zelenka corrected. "We have to earn those first."

"Really…and what do you have to do for that?"

"Prove a basic understanding of the underlying principles. Without them, the knowledge downloads would only allow us to reciprocate the data."

"I thought that was the whole point," McKay argued.

"Actually no…at least not how it was explained by Janus. In order to be able to one day go beyond the Ancient knowledge, we must first understand it. Apparently you can't download comprehension."

"But isn't that _exactly_ what our beloved master Ancient had done to him?"

Zelenka shrugged. "Perhaps…but he isn't technically a scientist, just knowledgeable. Janus heads our department, and he's said that that he also had to master the basics in order to be able to fully process the knowledge downloads."

"Guess your transformation wasn't that useful after all," McKay grumbled.

"You'd be surprised," Zelenka said evenly. "My mental processing power has increased greatly…and I don't require as much sleep, meaning I can work longer hours and the all-nighters aren't as debilitating," he said as three more individuals entered the room. They were also candidate scientists, two from the Traveler fleet and one from the Genii that had arrived less than a month ago when Sheppard arranged for their membership in what he jokingly referred to as their 'Federation.'

"I always wondered what it'd be like to go back to kindergarten," McKay half whispered as the others found seats in the enlarged, semi-circular briefing room.

"I hope you don't plan to be rude when Mereiov arrives."

"Or what?" McKay scoffed.

Zelenka frowned. "If you're not here to learn…"

"Oh, I'm here to learn," McKay clarified. "It's either this or sit in my quarters twiddling my thumbs. Weir won't let me go back to working on the city until I pass baby boot camp."

"You know, the Alterra are far more knowledgeable about Atlantis than we are," Zelenka whispered as more candidates arrived.

Rodney leaned forward. "We took care of this city for six years on our own. Don't you think that should count for something?"

"You think it hasn't?" Zelenka asked, somewhat surprised.

"If it did, we wouldn't be stuck back in school."

"Well, I for one look forward to the studies. We'll probably learn more in the next three hours than Earth could have in 3000 years without outside help."

"Thank you, Mr. Positive," McKay snided as Mereiov walked into the room and up onto the central podium that had been adjusted for his diminished height. He activated a holographic map of hyperspace around 'Dune.'

"These sensor readings," the Asgard began, "are being taken from the vicinity around Atlantis and will be updated continuously as the city's sensors sweep the system. This is the dimension known as Nifleheym by the Ancients, but most species refer to it as 'hyperspace' due to the rapid transit it allows due to an absence of matter of any kind."

"Tell me something I don't know," McKay whispered behind Zelenka where the Asgard couldn't see his lips.

"Interstellar travel through hyperspace," Mereiov continued ,oblivious, "is achieved through a variety of means, all of which create an interference field around the matter of the craft in question, allowing it to transition into the alternate dimension and remain there for an indefinite amount of time. However, if this field is deactivated, or dissipates below sustainable levels, the matter is automatically reverted back into the dimension from whence it came. This aspect of hyperspace allows for the inertia misalignment achieved during the initial transition between dimensions to be reversed without additional power output."

The Genii raised a hand.

"Yes…" Mereiov asked monotone.

"My knowledge of hyperspace is still theoretical, and basic at best, but are you saying that whatever speed a ship achieves in hyperspace is instantaneously negated when it returns to our dimension?"

"Provisionally, yes," Mereiov answered. "If such speed was attained through the transition between realms, it will be reversed upon any exit from hyperspace. If the acceleration was achieved once inside hyperspace, that inertia will not be negated and it will carry over into realspace…which the Ancients refer to as Midgar."

"Whoa…whoa…wait a minute," McKay interrupted, snapping his fingers to get the little alien's attention. "You can't accelerate inside hyperspace. All the speed comes from the dimensional cheat."

"That may be true of some hyperdrive engine designs, but it is not an absolute rule," Mereiov explained patiently. "Most primitive technology uses thrust-based engines to achieve acceleration and maneuvering, which cannot pass beyond the interference field without reverting to realspace. When such matter connects with the field, it destabilizes it proportional to the mass and velocity of the thrust, resulting in a collapse that automatically takes the ship out of hyperspace. This makes any thrust-based engines nearly inoperable within hyperspace…however, other non-matter based engines can be used without jeopardizing the integrity of the field."

"Interesting," McKay mused. "What level of matter interference are we talking about?"

"A single thruster burst from your Earth designed ships would be sufficient to jeopardize the weaker fields produced by your hyperdrive technology."

"Our technology? We got it from you," he pointed out.

"Yes, but it had to be downgraded in order to accommodate your lack of necessary support systems, composite materials, and power generation."

McKay's eyes widened. "Are you saying you gave us junk hyperdrive technology?!"

"I've reviewed the designs you were given," Mereiov said, refusing to be angered by McKay's thinly veiled insults. "They are as advanced as were possible given the construction of your ships. The hyperdrives on our vessels are based on similar principles, but the application is far superior due to the technology of our support systems."

"Isn't the hyperdrive technology independent from other systems?" the outspoken Genii inquired.

"What he said," McKay added.

"Partially," the Asgard stated, "but power generation is independent from the hyperdrive, as are the navigation and computer systems. A standard Asgard hyperdrive requires more power than naquada generators can provide, better sensors for accurate navigation at higher speeds, and more advanced processing capability in order to operate the device properly."

"So the starship is an integrated technology," the Genii said reflectively, "not just a frame with separate components attached."

"Correct," Mereiov said with just a hint of satisfaction.

"Show off," McKay mumbled. "So…how fast are your ships anyway?"

"Faster than Earth's…slower than the Ancients'."

"Gee, thanks," McKay mocked. "Care to narrow it down a bit more."

"No."

"No?" McKay half laughed. "What, are you afraid we'll steal your secrets?"

"I doubt you have the mental capacity to profit from any such theft."

Zelenka stifled a laugh, but McKay caught it anyway.

"Asgard humor, no doubt," he said, glaring at the back of Zelenka's head.

"There are many hyperspace applications," Mereiov continued, ignoring the jest. "We will study two today. The basics of the most primitive hyperdrive engine…and the mechanics of the stargates."

McKay perked up at that. "Really?"

Zelenka half turned around. "Rodney, please shut up."

"How about you make me, raggedy Andy."

"Who?"

"Never mind."

"Perhaps you would like to explain the function of the stargates?" Mereiov offered.

"What's the point," McKay said, sighing. "You're just going to disagree with whatever I say anyway."

"Probably," the Asgard confirmed.

McKay threw him an annoyed glance.

"Alright then...Stargates 101. You have an entry gate and an exit gate. They establish a wormhole through subspace between the two that transmits a deconstructed matter stream."

"Incorrect," Mereiov noted.

"How?" McKay asked. He'd tried to simplify it beyond disagreement.

"What you refer to as 'subspace' is a mathematical fiction. The stargates operate as a portal into hyperspace."

Rodney's jaw dropped. "How?"

"Makes sense, actually," Zelenka finally spoke. "That's why the Attero device affected the stargates."

"Indeed," Mereiov confirmed.

"What's the Attero device?" one of the Travelers asked. "That wasn't in our notes."

Zelenka glanced at Mereiov then turned toward the woman to explain. "The Attero device was the Lanteans' attempt to defeat the Wraith by tampering with their hyperdrives across the galaxy simultaneously. The device produced a disturbance in hyperspace that affected only their type of hyperdrives, causing the destruction of their ships whenever they attempted to use them. Unfortunately, the technology also disrupted the function of the stargates, causing them to overload when used."

The Traveler's eyes went wide with comprehension. "That's what destroyed our colony?"

"Unfortunately yes," Zelenka confirmed.

"Who used it?" she demanded.

"Our little grey buddies," McKay said, smiling.

"You did!" the Traveler demanded.

"It was not me," the Asgard said unabashedly. "But we must all pay the debt of those who did, no matter how unenviable the task," Mereiov said, looking directly at McKay.

"How do the stargates attain the nearly instantaneous transit times across galaxies," Zelenka asked, both interested in the topic and in changing the subject, "when a ship cannot?"

"The stargates create a super-accelerating conduit," Mereiov was glad to explain, "that has an internal, oscillating structure that drags an energized matter packet through an isolated region of hyperspace…observe," he said, using remote controls on his dais to activate Atlantis's stargate.

The holographic image of hyperspace was streaked by a long thin line emanating from the point where Atlantis rested and off the map to the destination.

"The conduit is not a fixed route," Mereiov explained. "Fluctuations within hyperspace will cause the route to meander, but the polarity of the energy matrix keeps both ends secured to the pair of stargates. Transit time will vary slightly, dependent on the length of the conduit during these fluctuations."

"Interesting," the Genii muttered.

"Hold on a minute," McKay interrupted again. "If it's a polarized conduit, and not a traditional wormhole, how can we receive EM against the flow?"

"The oscillating nature requires a reverse flow around the perimeter of the conduit in order to keep the entire matrix self-contained. Certain types of energy can be carried along this backflow, but matter cannot."

"Like how a waterslide recirculates the water uphill through the plumbing," Zelenka said, thinking aloud, "but the person can only go downhill."

Mereiov's eyelids rose. "Waterslide?"

"I'm sorry," Zelenka said, shaking his head. "It's a type of amusement ride on Earth. A small amount of water is run downhill through a half tube to provide lubrication for a person to slide down."

"Sounds fun," the Traveler woman said.

"So I've heard," Zelenka said.

"Wait a minute," McKay interrupted. "You've never gone down a waterslide?"

"No," he admitted.

McKay shook his head. "Why am I not surprised."

"Your analogy is sound," Mereiov approved, "if the water is recirculated."

"It is," Zelenka confirmed.

"How is your initial speed obtained?"

Zelenka shrugged. "The friction of the moving water, I suppose."

"That and you push off with your hands," McKay added.

"Then in this analogy," Mereiov continued to explain, "the stargates provide the initial 'push' as you suggest. The flow of the conduit completes the acceleration, as well as insuring that the object is insulated against disruptive factors within hyperspace. The receiving stargate slows the object to a stop where the energy stasis is reversed."

"What is this energy stasis?" the Genii asked.

"Any object passing through the stargate has to be capsulated in an energy stasis field in order to be transported through hyperspace, much like a ship must be engulfed in a similar interference field to allow its passage."

"I thought the traveler was disassembled at the molecular level?" Zelenka asked, confused.

"Such deconstruction would be fatal," Mereiov noted.

"Then how do your transport beams work?" McKay argued.

"They also engulf the target in an energy stasis…but they do not break the molecular bonds."

"Then our entire understanding of stargate technology is flawed," Zelenka announced, then caught himself. "Earth's I mean."

"Mine too, apparently," McKay said, his sarcasm momentarily gone. His scientific curiosity had just exceeded his ego. "Am I safe in assuming that the acceleration and deceleration of the stargates is also due to an inertial cheat."

"You are," Mereiov confirmed.

"What about the rest of the inertia?"

"The nature of the stasis field allows for extreme deceleration through energy-related means. The matter remains unaffected until the stargate removes the stasis."

"Interesting…"McKay mused. "I assume this stasis acts like some sort of inertial dampening field?"

Mereiov made a sound similar to a meek grunt. "That is a crude metaphor, but it will suffice for the moment."

McKay thought quietly for a moment, but the Genii had a question. "What is it that we're seeing on the other side of the event horizon? I mean, before we're completely inside."

"It is an artificial pocket of a hybrid dimension…part realspace, part hyperspace. This is where the object is applied with a stasis field, and likewise where that field is removed prior to exiting the target event horizon."

"There was a mishap on Earth," McKay explained, "where a person traveling through the stargate was stuck inside when the entry stargate was destroyed during transit. If the matter of the traveler isn't deconstructed, where was he held?"

"Was there something anomalous with the receiving stargate?" Mereiov asked.

"Not that I recall," McKay said, his tone civil. "The only extraneous factor was on the other end."

"The dialing device prevents such mishaps from occurring," Mereiov explained. "The stargates have many safety protocols imbedded within them. If those fail, backup protocols within the dialing device assess the nature of the problem and correct it. It is highly unlikely that such an error would bypass both layers of safeguards."

McKay tilted his head to the side. "Well, Earth doesn't use a DHD…dialing device. We built a custom one when the stargate was discovered without one."

"I see," Mereiov said, unimpressed. "Was this person recovered?"

"Yes…we had to borrow another dialing device and get some intelligence from a captive Goa'uld, but we managed to save him."

"In that case, the person in question was most likely held in stasis within the hybrid dimension. If the event horizon is not activated, then the stasis will not be repealed."

"Because it would kill the person," McKay said, beginning to make sense of things. "How come we don't explode from decompression on the other side?"

"The hybrid dimension is configured in such a way to mimic the conditions of the environment affecting the event horizon. This includes pressure and temperature, but not gravity."

"I was wondering about that too," McKay said, nodding. "Whenever I go through the stargate I feel constrained for a split second. I expect my foot to drop off into nowhere but it never does…I also can't exhale."

"Such is necessary to register your entry velocity and trajectory. Gravity on the other side of the event horizon would skew this, as would a solid surface beneath your feet. A long object entering the event horizon from an angle must be allowed to fully enter the dimensional pocket before encapsulation. This means it must be allowed to extend beyond the ring. For this purpose, the pocket dimension is designed to be enlarged as necessary to accommodate any and all objects that will fit through the ring."

"What about a puddle jumper?" McKay asked, dominating the class, but too interested to notice or care. "Why do the pilots undergo stasis before the craft does?"

"They are not connected to the craft, therefore as soon as their bodies fully pass through the event horizon they undergo stasis. If they did not, they could be asphyxiated before the entire craft entered if it was moving very slowly."

"True, true," McKay noted. "Please continue."

Sitting in front of McKay where he couldn't see, Zelenka smiled at his friend's sudden change of demeanor.

* * *

On Dakara the stargate activated its end of the conduit through hyperspace and deposited two travelers from Earth safely onto the desert world. Moments afterward a transport beam plucked the men off the surface and set them down inside the bridge of one of the Jaffa's new H'tels.

"Bra'tac…" one of the new arrivals greeted the System Lord seated in his command chair.

The Alterra nodded his respect. "O'Neill."

"We're good to go," the General said positively. "There'll be hell to pay back on Earth, but we've got to nip this in the bud while we still can."

"Indeed," Bra'tac agreed, turning towards his helmsman. "Set course for Osser."

The Jaffa did as bidden and opened a hyperspace window. The scattering of air molecules high above Dakara's atmosphere impacted the window and were repelled, but the H'tel with its interference field fully deployed around it passed through into a narrow hybrid dimension. There the full power of the ship's engines were applied and created the dimensional 'cheat' where the ship entered into hyperspace with an inertial momentum far greater than it had in realspace.

With the power generation capabilities of the Jaffa's new technology, that 'cheat' was in excess of any other ship within the galaxy…not to mention greater than that the Asgard and the Furlings were capable of generating. Due to such extreme engine power, the H'tel would arrive at the Chinese-held world, a quarter of the way across the galaxy, within the hour.


	2. Chapter 2

"_Proximity warning_," Xiang said calmly from the control center on Osser.

"_What have we got?_" Zi, his commanding officer, asked.

"_No comm chatter, but we are picking up IFF_," Xiang said, frowning. "_It's not an Earth ship._"

"_Translate into Goa'uld_," Zi ordered stiffly.

Xiang brought up the computer's translation protocols and quickly got a match for the matrix the IFF was operating on. The blank receiver screen flashed the translated identification tag:

**Jaffa H'tel 002: in the service of Lord Bra'tac, First of the System Lords.**

Zi's eyes went wide. "_What's their heading?_"

Xiang panickly brought up a crude, 3D radar tracking prompt. He turned and looked up at his superior, his face white. "_They're coming into the atmosphere and they're heading directly for us!_"

"_Get the pilots to their fighters!_" Zi yelled so the entire control staff could hear him clearly. "_Begin evacuation of key personnel. Purge all databases. Have the cargo ships cloak immediately then move to the pickup points. We can't take the chance of them being picked off on the ground_. _Dial an uninhabited world and begin evacuation of secondary personnel. How long do we have?_"

"_Six minutes_," Xiang said firmly.

"_Purge status?_" Zi demanded as the control staff hurriedly worked to carry out his orders.

"_Twenty seven percent_," another staffer yelled over the din.

"_Stay with it until completion, then get to the gate_," Zi ordered as he and the other control staff began finishing their tasks and running out of the building, grabbing whatever transportation they could or just making a run on foot towards the stargate set less than a kilometer outside the northern edge of their city.

* * *

As the Chinese overseers on Osser scrambled to evacuate either by cargo ship or stargate, the H'tel slowly broke through the thick cloud layer above the dozens of settlements and hovered in place, inciting additional terror in the fleeing Tauri.

A pair of small missiles lanced out from a low flying 302 and struck the Jaffa mothership's shields ineffectively. A short burst of stuttered energy blasts followed from the fighter before it arced up and into the clouds, turning away from the massive vessel.

Two more fighters made a run from the south with similar results. By the time all six of the Chinese 302s got into the air and were making their runs against the H'tel the first of the evacuees had reached the stargate…save for the guards who had gone through immediately.

With the gnat-like 302s spinning around the mothership expending their ordinance, the H'tel suddenly dropped its shields…followed by a transport beam stretching out and impacting one of the circling 302s. As soon as the beam retracted the Tauri fighter fell out of control towards the city but it never made it to ground. A short burst of weapons fire from the H'tel destroyed it midair, leaving only bits and pieces to damage the buildings and streets below.

Presented with an opportunity, the 302s launched all of their remaining missiles into the shieldless mothership as more transport beams continued to pluck the pilots from their ships. Five missiles and many small energy blasts hit the armored hull of the H'tel, chipping away at the red and black protective layer, but failing to penetrate it. Within twenty seconds all of the 302s had been deprived of their controllers and destroyed.

The next transport beam began plucking up the Tauri running and driving towards the stargate. One small motorized cart was within 20 meters of the gate when its passengers disappeared, but being so close to its destination it continued forward, slowing as it went, but still managed to make it through the event horizon. It was the last thing, living or otherwise, to do so.

Suddenly over two dozen Jaffa fighters, tiny in size and colored red/gold, launched from the mothership and arced up into the clouds. Using telemetry relayed from the H'tel, they began chasing the cloaked cargo ships as they attempted to flee the planet. They had a few thousand kilometers to do so before the primitive cloaking devices would be sufficient to hide the ships from the powerful Ancient sensors aboard the H'tel.

The small, angular fighters chased after the slower cargo ships with a fury, knowing that they weren't going to catch them all in time, but the pilots wanted to get as many as they could in order to impress Bra'tac and perhaps earn their new symbiots faster than expected. When the Lok'na'te came within range of the Tauri vessels they attacked with their tiny disruption pulses, each little more than a tiny bolt of orange energy that would interfere with the operations of the ships, but do very little hull damage.

Low powered as the weapons were, Bra'tac had made a point to include them in the fighter design. If the Jaffa were to be tasked with the protection and peace keeping of Avalona, then they were likely to encounter more situations where a vessel needed to be taken intact rather than outright destroyed.

Disabling the weapon and engine systems of a craft without critically damaging it was no small feat with conventional weapons, but the disruptor made it easy for even a novice pilot to accomplish the same task. Any impact on the hull would spread out and deaden the ship's systems.

Several hits were necessary to fully disable the cargo ships, but one was all it took to temporarily knock out their cloaking devices. As such, all the Jaffa needed to do was 'tag' each ship once and that would effectively extend their range of pursuit.

Even with their cloaks down, a few more of the cargo ships managed to make the jump to hyperspace. At that point the Lok'na'te could no longer pursue, devoid of any interstellar engines of their own, but they had managed to disable four of the fourteen craft and circled them like sharks in orbit, insuring they would not repower their systems and escape before the H'tel returned to pick them up.

Back on the ground the transport beams canvassed the streets closest to the stargate, picking up any and all personnel moving about, but they left those remaining within the buildings alone for the time being. After a few minutes the stargate shut down and the H'tel sent a signal offworld. Less than a minute later an incoming wormhole activated and a large contingent of Jaffa stepped through, weapons ready, along with seven Tok'ra. Behind them came more Jaffa carrying cargo crates which the Tok'ra began taking components out of in a small clearing less than 50 meters from the stargate.

Within a few minutes the Tok'ra had the first of their force shield containment wards set up and the H'tel beamed three people back down inside the fence-like perimeter.

"Do not be afraid," Delek said to the frightened villagers from the opposite side of the translucent containment field. "We are here to help you."

* * *

"Yes….yes….yes….yes….no," O'Neill said, pointing to the line of people being processed onboard the mothership. The woman he was pointing at, next in line, was escorted off to the left into another room by one of the Jaffa where she would be beamed back down to the surface.

"Yes….yes….yes," O'Neill continued, picking out the Chinese from the villagers. The illicit Tauri were escorted off to the right into several prepared holding cells in addition to the ones that came standard with the ship.

"Yep….uhuh….you betcha….nope," he said, catching another of the villagers and sending him out of line as Jack quickly got tired with repetitive 'yeses.'

"Oh yeah….bingo….absolutely….totally….definitely….undeniably….positively," he went on until he saw a person he couldn't quite place. "Hold up fellas!"

O'Neill turned around. "Mitchell?"

"On it," the Colonel said, walking up to the questionable person next in line. "_What's your name?_" he asked in Chinese.

The young man looked at him blankly, not saying anything.

"_Do you understand me, son?_" Mitchell tried again.

The man nodded.

"_What's your name?_" Mitchell repeated.

"_Xang_," he said meekly.

"_Relax Xang_," Mitchell said, exchanging a glance with O'Neill, "_you'll be seeing home within the day_."

O'Neill pointed to the right and the Jaffa escorted the man off to the holding cells. "Next…"

* * *

Seven hours later O'Neill, Mitchell, and Bra'tac beamed down to the impromptu Tok'ra encampment where they were holding the 7,539 natives as the Jaffa/Tok'ra taskforce continued to bring more equipment through the nearby stargate.

"That went well," Mitchell said as Delek walked over to meet the trio.

"Yes, very nice," O'Neill said, congratulating Bra'tac.

The System Lord nodded. "I too am glad we were able to avoid bloodshed. It will be a sad day indeed if the Jaffa and Tauri were ever to meet on the field of battle. Thank your President for sanctioning this mission. He has shown wisdom this day."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," O'Neill cautioned, "but we had to do something about the Chinese."

"Your involvement just made the whole mess a lot cleaner," Mitchell added.

"Had your President not approved of this," Bra'tac warned, "we would have been forced to act on our own eventually. I hope that you will be able to secure this rogue faction from your world?"

"That's the plan," O'Neill said sarcastically, "but you know what they say of the best laid plans."

"Indeed," Bra'tac said, nodding as Delek finally caught up to them.

"I assume you've cleared all of the settlements?" the Tok'ra asked brusquely.

"We have," Bra'tac confirmed. "Have you located the Tauri command center?"

"Yes, but it is too small and primitive for our needs. I've requested additional supplies from our homeworld, including several prefabricated structures. Once those are set up we will begin making what use we can of the indigenous buildings. It will be difficult, given that the infrastructure on this planet was designed to supplement your world as opposed to making Osser self-sufficient, but we will make sure this civilization doesn't spiral out of control in the Tauri's absence."

O'Neill sensed the subtle rebuke there, but in truth he agreed with the Tok'ra…for once.

"Thanks for cleaning up our mess," he offered candidly.

"I assume changes will be made on Earth to prevent this sort of thing from happening again?"

"We're working on it," O'Neill said, not satisfied with his own answer.

"I imagine," Bra'tac offered, "that such change will come at a cost to your world?"

"If you mean will we start fighting each other militarily…probably not. On Earth we usually use other means. Right now China has managed to tick off just about everyone and isolate itself, but if they really want to dig their heels in there will be trouble."

Bra'tac nodded. He'd seen many such power struggles between the Goa'uld over his century of service to Apophis. "Let us hope they will see reason and do not attempt this again."

"We'll be on the watch now," Mitchell assured him. "They set all this up in secret…that's an advantage they don't have anymore."

"There is still the matter of the four other worlds they have taken," Delek reminded them.

O'Neill and Bra'tac exchanged glances. "We hope they will voluntarily cede those worlds when we return to Earth and they hear from their own people what has transpired on this day," Bra'tac said.

Delek looked at the two Tauri. "Will that happen?"

O'Neill shrugged. "If not we'll just use the mothership approach again. They don't have anything bigger than a cargo ship to fight back with."

"And," Mitchell added, "once their ego gets bruised by this they may want to avoid it happening four more times."

"Let us hope so," Bra'tac echoed. "Delek, have you any further need of the H'tel?"

The Tok'ra considered for a moment. "I would recommend a full sensor sweep of the planet to insure all of the Tauri are actually gone, but if that is the case I see no further need for its presence."

Bra'tac nodded. "We will depart for Earth then."

"Good luck," Delek offered to O'Neill, out of character.

"Thanks," Jack said as Bra'tac conversed with several of his Jaffa that he was leaving on the planet to assist the Tok'ra. Delek left the group to continue the restructuring of Osser that would allow the natives to be gradually released from their temporary confinement.

Mitchell stepped closer to O'Neill and whispered over his shoulder.

"Did that stiff-assed Tok'ra just wish us luck?"

"I know," Jack said, equally surprised. "Then again, he didn't specify what kind."

Mitchell snickered. "No sir, I suppose he didn't."

"Ten bucks says the next thing that comes out of his mouth is a complaint," O'Neill offered lightly.

"I'd say that's a pretty safe bet," Mitchell confirmed.

"No takers?"

Cam tilted his neck innocently. "I may still be the new guy, but I wasn't born yesterday."

"Damn," Jack half whispered in defeat as Bra'tac returned.

"The grain you spoke of is indeed Kassa," he relayed to them.

"Totally saw that one coming," Cam said.

O'Neill raised an eyebrow. "Don't suppose they left any records of where they were sending it?"

Bra'tac shook his head. "Their data systems were deleted prior to our arrival. We are currently attempting to access the navigational logs on two of the cargo ships. They may offer some insight into the matter."

"How long will that take?" O'Neill asked.

"A matter of hours, but we need not wait here," Bra'tac said, answering his unspoken question. "The information will be transmitted to the H'tel whenever it is acquired. We may depart for Earth at any time."

"Let's go," O'Neill said.


	3. Chapter 3

When the H'tel entered Earth orbit it was met by the three Tauri warships and escorted by the two American vessels as the _Kerensky_ kept its distance, either intimidated by the larger vessel or not sure of the Jaffa's motives. The _Phoenix_ and the newly finished _Icarus_ took up flanking positions alongside the pyramid ship as they circled around the planet towards China.

* * *

"How'd it go?" Landry asked O'Neill after he'd beamed down into the SGC.

"Like a charm," the higher ranking General answered as the rest of SG-1 met him and Mitchell in the briefing room. "But," O'Neill continued, "there are a number of unaccounted for Chinese that managed to gate offworld. They may have went to one of their other bases…"

"Or they could be running around who knows where," Landry finished for him.

"Right," O'Neill answered, a bit stunned at being interrupted.

"You think they've got other operations running?" Carter asked.

O'Neill shrugged. "Don't know. That's what I want you to find out."

"We've got the address they gated to," Mitchell explained. "With your permission, sir," Cam said, looking at Landry, "I'd like to get underway immediately before the trail grows cold."

"Permission granted. If China has other bases out there we need to find them ASAP."

"That's not all," Mitchell said.

"Kassa," Jack said when Mitchell left the moment to him. "There was loads of the stuff lying around…and some of it might have made its way back here."

Landry's eyes went wide. "The Chinese are drug trafficking now?"

"Possibly," Mitchell answered, looking at Vala.

"Well," she said sheepishly, "I did happen to notice a few reports on the news about something called 'Black Rain' being introduced onto your European continent. Supposedly it's twice as potent as anything else on the market."

"If it is a Kassa derivative," Mitchell explained, "we might be able to backtrack the flow…and by 'we' I mean the DEA or some other three letter agency."

"Since this is evil space corn we're dealing with," O'Neill told Landry, "I'm having the SGC take the lead. All government agencies and black ops personnel will coordinate through you."

Landry nodded. "Understood. I'll reassign SG-4 and 6 to coordinating rolls."

"Sirs," Mitchell asked, standing a bit straighter.

"Dismissed," Landry said, giving his leave. SG-1 left to prep for their offworld goose hunt.

"So," Landry said conspiratorially after they were gone. "What's our next move?"

"Bra'tac is returning the prisoners to China. In about six hours we're going to have a confrontation inside the I.O.A. We'll know then."

"Ah…I wish I could be there to see their reaction."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Trade you?"

Landry laughed. "If only."

"Actually," Jack thought out loud, "why don't you come with. You can sit in the peanut gallery."

Landry hesitated, not sure if O'Neill was joking or not. He finally decided on 'not.' "Thank you, I think I will."

"Contact the _Phoenix_ in five hours and have them beam you up. I'll meet you there."

"Will do, General."

O'Neill searched his pants pockets, frowning. He patted down his back pockets, then checked his jacket pockets. He finally found what he was looking for inside a hidden left breast pocket in his green jacket.

"Ah, there it is," he said, pulling out the small transmitter that was barely the size of a poker chip. He pressed the thumb-sized button and waited. Fourteen seconds later _Phoenix_'s transport beam plucked him from the SGC.

* * *

"I assume this is the moment where you gloat over your recent victory?" Miss Shen, the Chinese Representative on the I.O.A. leading council, asked O'Neill, now in full dress uniform.

"Wasn't us," Jack said, only half suppressing a smile.

Shen frowned angrily. She'd only received her government's report an hour ago and hadn't had time to fully fume before being summoned into session. "I have eye witness reports of your presence onboard the Jaffa vessel."

"The Jaffa graciously allowed us two observers," O'Neill explained, "and they went to considerable effort to capture your people alive…and for a Jaffa that's saying a lot. I wouldn't count on such leniency next time."

"Next time?" Shen asked coyly.

O'Neill straightened behind the dais. Several American I.O.A. reps sitting in the gallery behind him shifted in their seats as well, including Landry. This was the moment of truth…or at least the first one…that they were going to come across.

"Either China voluntarily evacuates the other inhabited worlds you've stolen…or the Jaffa will take them by force. Master Bra'tac has given you one week exactly from the moment they returned your people. I suggest you not be late."

Shen leaned back in her seat. "It seems we have little choice…unless we recommit our nuclear arsenal to the defense of our colonies."

"Absolutely not!" Harkovli bellowed, the Russian's face turning red.

"That is not a viable option," Victor said in a less agitated voice.

"It would only serve to enrage the Jaffa," Louvere warned. "We can't risk further animosities."

"Relax fellas," O'Neill interjected. "I'm sure Miss Shen is well aware that a dozen of our nukes wouldn't be enough to penetrate their shields…she's just blowing smoke," he said irreverently.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, General," she said icily, "but did not our fighters damage the Jaffa vessel at Osser?"

"Scratched the paint," O'Neill confirmed.

"I believe our nuclear weapons would do considerably more damage," she said smugly.

Jack rolled his eyes. "The only reason your weapons hit paydirt was because Bra'tac lowered the shields so he could beam your pilots out before blowing your fighters to bits."

The Canadian Representative cleared her throat. "A sentiment of true friendship on their part that we would be fools to squander."

"Our weapons have no chance," Harkovli argued, "against the Ancient shield technology that the Jaffa now possess. Your statements here are nothing more than wishful thinking…if not bordering on delusional."

Shen eyed him vehemently but didn't respond.

"Well?" O'Neill demanded after a few moments of silence.

The Chinese Representative neatly assembled her papers and placed them back inside a single folder, tapped it twice on the desktop to even them, then laid it squarely down in front of her.

"You will have our answer in three days," she said as she rose from her seat and headed for the door. A half dozen other Chinese personnel in the gallery rose to leave as well.

O'Neill glanced across the panel of remaining I.O.A. reps. "One more thing," he said, getting her attention before she got to the door. "What have you been doing with all the Kassa?"

Shen was about to offer a retort, but thought better of it and just left the room with the door slamming shut behind her.

"What is this Kassa?" Raj Mesei, the Indian Representative on the 21 member council, asked.

"It's a type of narcotic," Victor informed the newer member.

"Looks like corn," O'Neill offered.

"China is growing narcotics on other planets?" Raj asked. "Did you know of this?"

"No we didn't," the British rep assured him. "The Americans were the ones to discover it."

"And there's a chance they might be bringing it back here," O'Neill said, dropping that bombshell.

"To sell?" Louvere asked.

O'Neill shrugged. "Beats me."

"They are way out of line," the New Zealand Representative said in half a whisper.

Jack pointed a swaying finger at all of them. "Don't think you all are off the hook either."

The I.O.A. representatives glanced at one another uneasily.

"If France is willing to cede all but one of our colonies," Louvere offered, "would that get us 'off the hook?'"

O'Neill rubbed his chin for a moment as he considered. "How many you got?"

"Four."

Jack bobbed his head side to side. "I think I can swing it…but we still have to dismantle the I.O.A."

"Russia has already made it clear that that is not an option," Harkovli reiterated.

"What would we have to fill the void?" Louvere asked, seemingly open to the idea.

O'Neill turned around. "Kelly?"

The junior I.O.A. rep that had been handling most of Coolidge's duties stood up from her seat in the gallery and gave Jack a thick folder, which he opened on the dais.

"First off, this business of everybody getting an equal share of decision making has got to go…some of you have zero experience in offworld affairs. Your naiveté is dangerous when put into positions you haven't earned. From now on your countries are going to have to cut their teeth before they get to start playing with the big boys."

"Your tone is insulting," Harkovli rebuked.

"Not quite what I was going for, but ok," O'Neill said deadpan.

"Russia will not…"

Victor held up a hand. "Let him speak. I'm curious as to what the Americans have in mind."

"Right now we control the stargate," Jack began his diatribe. "We control the moon base. We control the only means of 304 production and most of the 302. We have the most personnel with offworld experience, not to mention offworld combat, and we're the ones that have developed the contacts with other worlds. They know us, they deal with us. You guys have been reaping the benefits of our hard work, then you start telling us what to do through the I.O.A., which has backfired time and again. To put it bluntly, you're _newbs_," he said, emphasizing that term.

"The fact that you've already ticked off the Jaffa and Tok'ra is clear evidence of your lack of real diplomatic skills. Not only did you break the rules we established to avoid confrontations like this, but you also got caught doing it, which goes to show you're not even good at sneaking around," O'Neill said, throwing his hands up in the air for emphasis of their ineptitude.

"We fooled you," Victor reminded him.

"Really…then why are we here having this discussion right now?"

Victor sat back in his seat.

"You guys don't have a clue what you're doing, and we've got enough enemies as it is. If Bra'tac hadn't been here when he was, Earth would be a dead planet. We dodged yet another bullet and you guys don't seem to care. The Aschen tried to wipe us out and all you can do is squabble amongst yourselves. We need to defend this planet properly, with a coordinated effort, because our nine lives are up. Sooner or later the bad guys are going to be the lucky ones and we'll just be dead."

"What sort of coordination are you suggesting?" Louvere asked.

"I've been working on a plan for a while now, for what would be the best case scenario. I didn't think it'd ever happen, but given recent events the status quo just won't do anymore."

"I think we can all agree to that," Mrs. Neville said.

"Speak for your own country," Harkovli reprimanded the Canadian.

"The framework is simple," O'Neill explained. "The SGC has operational authority over all offworld activities as well as Earth orbital defense. Your countries can contribute to the talent pool in the SGC where you are able and start building some experience. We expand the SGC over time into a multinational venture whose participation is based on merit and not politics."

"Eventually the colonization of other worlds will be facilitated by the SGC and your countries will gain a bit of liberty in that area, but for now all colonies will fall under direct SGC control until we can sort out this mess."

"Just for the sake of argument," Harkovli rumbled, "who would that put in command of the stargate program…General Landry or you?"

In the gallery Hank raised his eyebrows. O'Neill hadn't discussed this with him beforehand.

"Both…though we ultimately have to clear everything through the President."

"So Earth will take orders from the American President?" Harkovli laughed humorlessly. "I think not."

"If we are to contribute resources and personnel," Louvere said, exploring the thread, "would we have no say in their use?"

"Participation would be voluntary," O'Neill explained. "If you don't like something you can always walk."

"That's not quite what I meant, General," Louvere continued. "As more and more non-American personnel join the SGC, would your President still have final say?"

Jack considered that for a moment. It was a sticky question to say the least. "Best guess is that eventually the SGC would operate as a separate entity on US soil. Decisions involving multi-national resources would be made by the SGC and not our President. Decisions involving only US resources will always be the prerogative of the President."

Louvere nodded. "France will agree to that in principle."

"Canada may as well," Neville added, "but I must check with my government before we can go any further."

"I don't believe this!" Harkovli nearly exploded out of his seat. "You're giving them exactly what they want!"

"Each nation must act in our own best interests," Louvere explained. "Perhaps you should consider what course of action would serve Russia's future best."

"This isn't an east vs. west issue," O'Neill said, trying to throw him an olive branch. "It's about defending Earth."

"Under your leadership," Harkovli said, biting off each word.

"For the moment, we have the experience," Jack reminded him. "That won't always be the case."

"So you're saying the US's domination will end at some point?"

O'Neill nodded. "We can't let politicians of any country jeopardize Earth's security with petty games…that includes the United States. I don't trust our congress to know what to do out there any more than I trust you guys."

Several US diplomats in the gallery cringed, as did two US Senators in attendance, but neither of them looked particularly angered. In fact, one of them belatedly nodded his head in recognition of O'Neill's words.

"Do you have a formal proposal for us to consider?" Victor asked evenly.

"Nope," Jack answered. "Just some notes I've scratched down over the years."

"So all we have to go on is your word?" Raj asked.

"That's how we used to do it in the old days," O'Neill said pithily.

"Your lack of diplomatic understanding is profound," Harkovli said.

"Thank you," O'Neill said happily.

"I believe it may be us that are lacking in diplomacy," Louvere stated. "Or am I wrong in assuming that the Jaffa hold more to O'Neill's sense of personal honor than they do invective politics."

"You may have a point there," Haviar DeSoto added. "From the mission reports I've read while stationed in this post, most of the galaxy is more straightforward than we're accustomed to. Perhaps it is best if we leave the, _diplomacy_, in the hands of those in the SGC."

"Gracias," O'Neill added, nodding to the Spanish rep. "Most logical statement I've heard this decade."

"This is not a joking matter, General," Harkovli scolded him.

"Actually, I find this whole debate quite hilarious," Jack responded. "Because you really have no choice in all this. The only way you're gettin back out there is through us."

"Is that a threat?" Harkovli said raising his chin defiantly.

"Pretty much," O'Neill said, staring back. "You screwed up going behind our back. Now you're going to pay for it. You work a deal with us and you _might_, I stress _might_, get to keep some of your offworld assets. You don't play ball and you're grounded."

"You have no right to dictate terms," the Russian growled.

"Ambassador," Louvere interrupted. "Remember that the man you are berating is responsible for saving this planet from destruction no less than _**six times**_! General O'Neill can be trusted, even if his government cannot, and to put a rather blunt point on the matter…they _are_ holding all the cards."

O'Neill held up eight fingers briefly for the Frenchman to see, but didn't say anything.

"Hero or not, Russia will not stand for this," Harkovli said firmly. "We have our own warship and need not grovel at the American's feet like the lot of you!"

"Hey! You started this when you went behind our back," O'Neill argued. "You had your shot, illegal as it was, and you blew it. Now we're trying things our way. You want onboard…great. If not, you can get into space the old fashioned way, because you ain't getting any more technology from us."

* * *

After the I.O.A. brass disbanded to consider their options, O'Neill was headed back to his house for a long delayed sleep after his 17 waking hours. He'd gone directly to Paris after returning to Earth and a brief refresher in Washington, and as it was he was having trouble keeping awake while driving out of the Pentagon's parking gate.

Something in his pocket started to vibrate, waking Jack up a bit further as he pulled out on the busy evening streets. He extricated his cell phone from his jeans' pocket and flipped it open, surprised at the calling number.

"O'Neill," he answered, now fully awake. "On my way," he said, putting his truck's turn signal on as he headed toward the White House.

* * *

"Mr. President," O'Neill said on entering the Oval Office in civilian clothes. The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff was present as well.

"General, come in," the President said, standing.

An attendant closed the door behind Jack as he stepped forward and stood at attention.

"I was told it was urgent?" O'Neill asked.

The President nodded. "I need you to personally go to stargate command to relay an order of mine, and I need it done within the hour."

Jack frowned. "What order?"

"We're moving the stargate out of Cheyenne Mountain to a location at these coordinates," the President said, nodding as the higher ranking General handed Jack a slip of paper. "Have the SGC deactivate the beaming jammers and transfer the stargate via the _Phoenix_."

"What?!" Jack asked/exclaimed.

"This is a direct order, General," the President said, looking him straight in the eyes. "You have one hour to transfer the stargate. If you are so much as one minute late you will be court-martialed for disobeying a direct order. Is that understood?"

"Why are we moving the gate?" Jack demanded, "and where is this?" he asked, holding up the piece of paper with the coordinates.

"There's no time for discussion," General Bowerton chimed in. "It is imperative that this happens no less than 59 minutes from now. We'll explain everything later."

"With all due respect, sirs…"

"Are you refusing to follow a Presidential Order?" the President cut him off.

"No, sir…"

"Then get moving. You're on the clock," the slightly taller man said, pointing at the door.

Jack stood still, looking back and forth between them trying to figure out what was going on. This felt all wrong.

"Now, General," Bowerton barked.

Jack held the man's gaze for a long two seconds then turned on his heels and left the room.


	4. Chapter 4

As he left the Oval Office O'Neill pulled the door shut a little hard, making a loud bang in the subdued evening environment of the White House.

"What?" he asked two secret service guards down the hallway as he walked by them. "Never heard a door slam before?"

Jack continued outside to where his truck was parked and angrily dove a hand into his duffle bag inside. He rummaged around for a while before finding his dirty dress uniform's pocket. He pulled out the transport chip and palmed it as he jogged back inside.

"Excuse me," Jack said, ducking past the security guards that had just let him out and around a corner into a deserted alcove, out of view. He pressed and held the transmit button and waited for the Asgard beam to transport him out of the stagnant, oppressive, infuriating governmental headquarters to and into surroundings more comfortable to him, though at the moment nothing was going to quell his roiling emotions

What had just happened?

"General," Ronson said from his command chair onboard the _Phoenix_, "welcome back."

"Give me a sensor sweep of these coordinates," O'Neill ordered, "and I need it ten minutes ago."

Ronson stood up frowning and took the slip of paper from him. "Where is this?"

"Beats me," Jack said as the bridge crew snapped into action.

"What are we looking for, exactly?"

"I honestly don't know," Jack said, his voice weird.

"Is something wrong?" the Colonel asked, sensing his off mood.

Jack just looked at him and shook his head in dismay, then cradled his forehead between a pair of fingers.

"Colonel," one of the bridge crew called out from the aft stations, "we have something."

"Where are we looking at?" Ronson asked.

"The Sahara Desert, southern Egypt."

Ronson glanced at O'Neill, but his face had scrunched up in frustration or worry…he wasn't sure which.

"Here," the Lieutenant said, pointing at a small screen. "Some sort of underground facility, several levels deep and over a mile wide."

"Those coordinates were to the inch, Lieutenant," Ronson said, his mood souring as well.

"Right here, sir, in the largest chamber."

She zoomed in and a familiar schematic manifested itself from the top down.

"Is that what I think it is?" Ronson asked.

Jack didn't answer. He stepped off to the side and leaned his forehead against a bulkhead, thinking hard.

"Looks to me like a copy of the SGC's gateroom," the Lieutenant offered.

"That's what I thought," Ronson confirmed. "What's going on, General?"

O'Neill didn't say anything.

"Jack?" Ronson whispered over his shoulder.

"I've got 53 minutes to make a decision," he said quietly so only Ronson could hear. "You'll know by then."

Ronson nodded, sensing something very wrong was going on. "What can I do?"

Jack hesitated for a moment, then made a snap decision. "I need to make a phone call."

Ronson nodded. "This way."

* * *

"George! Phone!"

"Thank you, dear," Hammond said from his camp chair next to the fire pit. He stood up and handed his hot dog on a roasting stick to his granddaughter. "Will you hold this for me? Grandpa needs to answer the phone."

"Sure," the five year old said eagerly, taking the seemingly heavy metal rod from him.

"Hold it steady…don't let it touch the ashes."

"I won't," she assured him as it wobbled over the flames.

"Good girl," he said smiling as he walked up to the door into his house.

"Who is it?" he asked.

"Military," his wife answered handing him the phone.

"Thanks," he said as she walked back outside to the grandkids. "Hello?"

"Sir, do you have a minute?"

"Jack?"

"Yes, sir. I don't mean to pry but I'm in a bit of a hurry. Are you free to talk."

"Anytime," Hammond said.

"In person?"

"Something wrong?" Hammond asked, sensing the change in his voice as well.

"I'm in one hell of a pickle, sir."

"Where are you?"

"Ten seconds away. I'd rather not talk about this over an open line."

"If it's that urgent, come right up to the door. We can talk in the den."

"Thank you, sir," Jack said a moment before he materialized three feet away.

"And here I thought you were driving up my lane," Hammond said, extending a hand in greeting. "Good to see you again, Jack."

"Likewise, sir," O'Neill said, his complexion paling. "I only have a few minutes."

"What's going on?" he asked, waving Jack toward a nearby room and the couch inside.

"I may have to disobey a Presidential order," he said, coming straight to the point.

All enjoyment of a friendship renewed drained from Hammond's face. "Go on."

"I got an emergency call on the way home telling me to get to the White House ASAP. As soon as I got in the door the President ordered me to move the stargate, handed me a scrap of paper with the coordinates, and wouldn't answer any questions. He said I had one hour exactly to get the gate moved or face court martial. As of now I've got 47 minutes left."

"Move it to where?" Hammond asked, aghast.

"I had the _Phoenix_ do a sensor scan. It's a mockup of the SGC in Egypt."

"Egypt? How in the stars does he expect you to fly the gate there in an hour?!"

"He wants it beamed over."

Hammond considered that. "We can do that now?"

"Yeah," Jack said, dipping his head and grabbing the back of his neck with both hands.

"There has to be some sort of safeguards in place to keep our enemies from doing that to us, right?"

"We've installed jamming devices around the gate. I'm supposed to deactivate those personally."

"This is unbelievable," Hammond said, standing. "Someone is trying to steal the gate under the cover of darkness…and you said the President is the one who ordered it?"

"Yep."

"Does anyone else know about this?"

"General Bowerton was there too."

"The Chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff Bowerton?"

"The same."

Hammond paced back and forth once. "You were right when you said you were in a pickle."

"Have any brilliant advice I could borrow?" Jack all but pleaded.

Hammond considered. "If they're doing this in a hurry, it's possible that they're afraid of causing a fuss. They know that we'd never willingly give up the stargate, so they're trying to get it out before anyone's the wiser."

"If I stall…"

"That might cause them to reconsider their plans, if enough people found out first…but then you're still facing a charge of disobeying a direct order, from the top of the chain of command no less."

"Well, if you're going to rebel, you might as well go big," Jack said, half attempting a joke.

"I still can't believe the President would be a part of this?" Hammond argued.

"It's not entirely out of character, based on some of the other things that have been going on, but I had no clue this was coming."

"That's probably by design…how much time did you say you had?"

Jack checked his watch. "45 minutes."

"I don't know what to tell you, Jack."

"Neither do I, sir," he said, leaning back on the couch and looking up at the ceiling.

"Whatever you decide, you'll have my full support," Hammond assured him. "I still have a number of contacts in high places. I'll get on the phone and see what I can do. Maybe a little sunshine on this mess will be all the cure we need," he said, retrieving his cordless phone from the other room.

"George…we both know that if that gate leaves US soil, it isn't coming back."

Hammond reluctantly nodded. "You're probably right about that."

"I'd bet my ridiculous paycheck that the President probably doesn't think Landry will deactivate the jammers on his order alone…at least not without making some phone calls first."

"You're the only one with enough clout to pull it off," Hammond agreed.

"And he hasn't left me enough time to do anything without violating his direct order," Jack said monotone, his mind elsewhere.

"What are you thinking, Jack?"

O'Neill blinked twice then looked directly at Hammond. "I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. I can't let the President steal the stargate for the I.O.A. or whoever else is behind this…and I end up in jail if I don't."

"The I.O.A.?" Hammond said, his frown deepening.

"The President has bailed their asses out of the frying pan several times."

"Then this could be part of an international coup," Hammond thought out loud. "In fact, his election could have been engineered for this very act. No one can legally overrule the President…and the Congress can't remove him from office without telling the public what's really going on."

"I really didn't want to hear that," Jack said, his nerves ever more on edge.

"I've been involved in enough political games to recognize a few moves…and any President of the United States willing giving up the stargate is committing the political equivalent of a kamikaze run. He does this and his career is over one way or another."

"Where does that leave me?"

"In the hot seat…as usual," Hammond said, sitting down next to O'Neill.

"I wish it were, sir. I don't have anyone to shoot…or a gun for that matter," Jack said, patting the side of his jeans out of habit.

"Fate rarely comes at a moment of our choosing."

Jack frowned. "Patton?"

"Transformers," Hammond admitted. "The kids make me watch it with them over and over again."

"I'm so angry I'm sick to my stomach," Jack admitted. "I feel totally helpless."

"If you didn't have any control then the President wouldn't have needed you," Hammond reminded him.

"Meaning?"

"You _can_ do something…it's just the consequences that are the problem."

"Are you telling me to cause trouble, sir," Jack asked, seeing the irony.

"I don't know of anyone more qualified," Hammond said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "In complete honesty…this may end bad no matter what you do."

Jack pulled a sock hat out of his pocket and twisted it between his hands. "You really think stalling will do any good?"

Hammond nodded cautiously. "If enough people are made aware of what's happening before the gate is actually moved, the President may be forced to change his orders…you might even be let off the hook."

"You don't sound too confident about that last part."

"I'm not. There's no one to plead your case to if the President doesn't bend under the pressure."

"He may still move the gate after I'm locked up."

"Then I suggest you put as much pressure on him as you can."

Jack managed a forced smile. "I wasn't looking forward to retirement part 2 anyway." He checked his watch. "Whatever happens, I've got to get the ball rolling now."

"I wish I could be of more help."

"You already have, sir. I knew from the moment he ordered me to do it that I wasn't going to…I guess I just needed to hear it from you to make sure I'm doing the right thing."

"Sometimes the right thing lands you in jail," Hammond warned.

"Been there, done that," Jack said, some of his swagger back. "Thanks," Jack said, saluting.

Hammond returned the salute. "Whatever happens, I want you to know it's been a honor serving with you…a headache at times, but a honor none the less."

Jack nodded. "Back at you, sir," he said, fishing in his pocket for his transport coin.

"Wait a minute," Hammond said as a thought occurred to him.

"Sir?"

"I'm not sure how much protocol has changed since I left the SGC, but there's one surefire way I know of to send a warning flare out to every agency and country associated with the stargate program."

Jack frowned.

"A lockdown," Hammond told him.

Jack's eyes widened. "I always knew there was the mind of a genius beneath that bald head. Gotta go, sir."

Two seconds later a white flash whisked O'Neill up to the _Phoenix_ and out of Hammond's living room. With a precision developed through years of practice Hammond picked up his cordless phone and dialed the switchboard at the Pentagon.


	5. Chapter 5

"Colonel, we're receiving a transport request from General O'Neill," the Lieutenant at the left bridge control station reported.

"Permission granted," Ronson approved.

"Bridge, sir?" the Lieutenant asked.

Ronson nodded, and a moment later Jack appeared a few feet in front of them.

"You know," the _Phoenix_'s commander commented, "I had thought these transport duties were going to be taken over by the moon base?"

"Right now that's the least of our problems," Jack said, not moving. "I need you to send me to the SGC."

"Still can't tell me what's going on?" Ronson asked.

"For your own sake," Jack told him. "You'll hear soon enough."

"Lieutenant?" Ronson said.

O'Neill disappeared in a flash of light.

"Any idea what's going on, sir?" the Lieutenant asked.

"No, but if it has O'Neill worried then it has to be something big."

"End of the world big?"

Ronson shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"No, sir, I suppose not."

"Keep those coordinates he gave us under surveillance," Ronson ordered. "He may not want to tell us what's going on, but that doesn't mean we can't try and find out for ourselves."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Jack found himself in the middle of a deserted briefing room. "Hello?" he yelled. "Anybody?"

"General?" Landry said, stepping out of his office. "What brings you back to the SGC?"

"Trouble," Jack said plainly. "Where's SG-1?"

"Still offworld chasing down the Chinese…what's wrong."

"I have," Jack checked his watch, "32 minutes before I'm in violation of a Presidential Order to move the gate out of Cheyenne Mountain. After that all hell is going to break loose. I need to know how far we can extend the beaming jammers…over the entire SGC if possible."

Hank was taken aback. "They extend over the entire base automatically when the SGC goes into a lockdown."

"Perfect," Jack said, turning around and heading down the stairs.

"What was that about moving the stargate?" Landry asked, following in his footsteps.

"The President is trying to move the gate out of US custody before anyone notices. The President ordered me to have the _Phoenix_ beam the gate out of the SGC within the hour."

"That's borderline treason," Landry whispered as they passed several other people in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs.

"Yes it is," Jack agreed as they stepped into the control room. "Who's the highest ranking team still on base?"

"SG-7," Landry answered.

"Get them up here," Jack ordered.

"Walter," Landry deferred.

"Yes, sir," the gate operator on duty answered. "SG-7 report to the control room," he announced over the base-wide intercom. "SG-7 to the control room."

"Hank, in a few minutes I need you to play receptionist when the phone line gets hot."

"It might help if you slowed down and filled me in first."

"There's not much more to tell," O'Neill said as he waited impatiently for SG-7 to arrive. "Might as well get the rest of the teams down here too," he added.

"Yes, sir," Walter acknowledged. "All SG teams report to the control room."

"Gate room," Jack corrected him.

"Check that. All SG teams report to the gateroom. All SG teams to the gateroom."

"And hurry," Jack added.

"Make that ASAP," Walter added.

"Can we get back to the part about the President ordering you to move the gate?" Landry pleaded.

"What?" Walter gasped, half turning around. "Sorry, sir."

"No, Walter, I had about the same reaction myself. Thing was he wouldn't let me ask any questions, nor did he bother to tell me where he wanted the gate moved to. He just gave me the coordinates and told me I had exactly 60 minutes to get it moved or face court martial. General Bowerton was with him when he gave the order, so I doubt this is an April fools joke."

"What coordinates?" Landry asked.

"I had the _Phoenix_ check…turns out its some brand spanking new facility in Egypt of all places."

"Egypt?! I didn't know we had any bases in Egypt?"

"We don't…least not that I know of."

Landry thought fast. "Well who else would…"

"Now you're catching on," Jack noted.

"The I.O.A.," Landry said, biting off each letter.

"That'd be my guess."

"And the President is working with them…"

"Or for them," Jack added. "Doesn't matter right now. What does matter is that gate doesn't leave this facility under any circumstances. Do I make myself clear?"

"Perfectly," Landry echoed as SG-7 came running into the gateroom while its commander charged up into the control room.

"What's up?" Colonel Larson asked hurriedly, noticing General O'Neil's presence. "Sir," he added with a curt nod.

"Trouble, Gary," Jack said stepping over to him and grabbing his shoulder. He whispered in his ear.

"Quietly take your team and arm them for base defense, stunners only, then stand guard over the armory ready to take down anyone that tries to gear up without my permission over the radio. We've got an internal power struggle brewing and I don't know who'll take whose side."

Larson pulled back enough to look Jack in the eye. "You can count on SG-7 to have your back, sir."

"Thanks," Jack said as the Colonel left to get his men as the other SG teams began filling into the gateroom.

"If the President issued the order," Landry said quietly after Larson left, "then we're in a very sticky situation."

"I know," Jack said, way ahead of him. "We're violating the chain of command…but if we let the gate go, we're not going to get it back again short of going to war."

"True," Landry agreed. "Alright, how do you want to play this?"

"I'm the crazed General refusing the follow orders…you're the middleman trying to work out a solution while letting everyone know exactly what's going on and how it jeopardizes national security."

Landry nodded. "I can do that, but it leaves you holding the bag."

"As always," Jack muttered. "Walter…initiate a full lockdown of the base."

"Sir?...yes, sir," he said, getting his wits about him. A moment later the base alarm sounded.

"Make sure the jammers are up and stay up," Jack ordered Landry. "If they can beam us out at will this is going to be a very short standoff."

"Walter…" Landry began as Jack jogged out of the control room and met the on-base SG teams on the gateroom floor.

"Alright…listen up!" Jack said in full badass mode. "The President had turned traitor on us. Not forty minutes ago he ordered me to quietly move the stargate out of Cheyenne Mountain to what we think is an I.O.A. facility in Egypt. He gave me exactly one hour to get it beamed over or face court martial. I think he intended to catch everyone off guard and get the gate moved before anyone knew about it…but that didn't happen. I'm not moving the stargate. It's the single most important piece of our national security…hell, planetary security, that we possess."

"Right now the President is probably royally pissed off, and I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen. He's not going to get the midnight coup he expected, but if he is set on this course of action he may be willing to go to further lengths…possibly an assault on the SGC to deactivate the jamming devices preventing our ships from beaming out the gate. If you hadn't noticed, the base has just gone into lockdown and will stay that way until I'm assured that the President or others aren't going to steal the gate."

"Worst case scenario, he sends an assault force, in which case I need your help to keep them out. Technically he outranks me, but at this point we're past the chain of command. This is blatant treason and we cannot let this gate go," Jack emphasized by turning around and pointing at the heavy ring behind him. "Do you understand?"

The SG teams snapped to attention. "Yes, sir," they said in unison.

"Good," Jack said, nodding. He hadn't expected any less from the SG teams, but he hadn't felt secure until he'd heard it from them himself. "For any of you poetic types…and you know who you are…the SGC just became the Alamo."


	6. Ch1

"There," Teal'c said quietly, pointing towards some brush.

Mitchell frowned. "You sure?"

"I am," he said with certainty.

"Alright," Cam whispered in the dead of night, "The three amigas stay here, you and I will check it out," he said, glancing back at Carter.

She nodded and turned back to look at the other two women. "Tri-point around the gate," she ordered, referring to a defensive formation. "Keep it loose."

"Got it," Vala echoed, moving off about twenty meters to the north of the gate. Carter took southwest and Jennifer Hailey took southeast as Mitchell and Teal'c followed the invisible trail off toward the northwest with the Jaffa in the lead.

Cam held up a hand as Teal'c moved a branch to his left and let it snap back. The Colonel caught it and moved on in a crouch beneath some overhanging vines. The entire planet was covered in dense foliage with an oppressive atmosphere that made the whole area feel like one giant greenhouse. Even in the moonlit night the moisture in the hot air was suffocating. Cam didn't want to be around when the sun came up…whenever that would be.

Teal'c stopped and knelt with an upraised fist that unraveled into a pointed finger that tilted toward the ground.

"I see it," Cam said, noticing the subtle boot print. "Good eyes."

"The trail is haphazard," Teal'c noted, "they haven't come this way before."

Cam lifted his head and looked around, not really seeing anything beyond a couple of meters in the wisps of moonlight breaking through the short canopy. "Plan B?"

"It would seem so," Teal'c agreed.

"How far you guess?"

Teal'c grunted and walked forward.

"Is that far or close?" he asked, still a whisper.

"Close," Teal'c confirmed as he turned to the left and pulled back a lock of vines. On the ground was a wad of prints and several cigarette butts.

"Hmmn," Cam mumbled. "Interesting."

"Indeed," Teal'c said as he pointed further off to the left. "It appears they doubled back."

"How many?"

"At least three."

"Go," Mitchell said, fingering his radio's call button. "Heads up. These guys may be closer than we thought."

"Copy that," Carter's voice came back. "No activity here."

"Roger," Cam said, following a couple of steps behind Teal'c.

A few minutes later Teal'c stopped them again, this time with his staff weapon raised…but as soon as he pointed the tip forward he lowered it back down.

"What?"

"Hailey," Teal'c answered, standing up and pushing his way through more brush and vines.

"They came all the way back," Mitchell said aloud, catching the freshly minted Major's attention.

"No joy?" Hailey asked from afar.

"Looks like a wild goose hunt to me," he said as they met up in a small clearing beneath a gnarly tree. "They probably hid out here for a while then dialed another address," he said, getting on his radio. "Pull back to the gate," he ordered.

The three waded through the underbrush back towards the obscured gate as the other two members of SG-1 did likewise and became visible through the break in vegetation around the gate…but Teal'c soon broke off from the group.

"Find anything?" Carter asked.

"Trail doubled back," he told her. "Feel like digging through the DHD again?"

She winced. "Not really."

"There's gotta be some way to find the last address dialed," Cam argued.

"The new software can get us within ten, but we're still going to have to check them all out, but there's no way for me to tell which is which."

"The Ori knew a way," Cam noted.

"Colonel Mitchell!" Teal'c's voice boomed from the other side of the gate and out of sight.

Cam turned around. "Where is he?"

"Over there," Vala said, leading the way.

Not far off, but through a maze of plants, roots, and soggy holes they found Teal'c kneeling over a small clearing the size of a couple of phone booths.

"What did you find?" Cam asked.

Teal'c rapped a knuckle on something hard.

"Rings," Carter guessed in the dim light.

"Indeed," Teal'c confirmed.

"So the Chinese didn't leave the planet?" Vala said aloud what everyone else was thinking.

"There has to be an activation button," Hailey said.

Carter nodded. "She's right. If they fled Osser in a hurry they wouldn't have had time to grab a remote. There's gotta be something around here for them to use."

"Fan out," Mitchell ordered, activating his flashlight. The rest of SG-1 did likewise, no longer worried about being spotted. Wherever this set of rings led was probably far off or underground, either of which would be out of sight.

* * *

"Jack," Landry said, stepping out of his office. "The President is on the phone."

O'Neill checked his watch. He technically still had three minutes till deadline, but triggering the lockdown had washed that formality away. "Not interested."

Landry nodded. "I told him you'd assumed command and taken me out of the loop."

"Anyone else call yet?"

"Three automatic responses from the CIA, NID, and Homeworld Security. I've got another from the FBI on hold until I finish with the President. I promised to personally tell you you're in direct violation of a Presidential Order and relieve you of command."

"Funny…I don't feel relieved."

"Just going through the motions…plausible deniability and all."

"Yes, plause all you need to. If this goes south I don't want it landing on anyone besides me," Jack said in earnest.

Landry nodded. "Attempt to relieve you of command failed. I'll inform the President."

"Send him my worst," O'Neill joked as a pair of Colonels jogged up the stairwell into the briefing room where Jack sat alone at the long table. He raised his eyebrows at them.

"Lockdown is confirmed," Colonel Herreson said a little out of breath. "All entrances have guards posted in case they try and force their way in."

"All secondary personnel have been confined to quarters," Larson added. "They're not very happy about it, but they're staying put voluntarily. I've got guards posted in case we need to lock them in."

Jack nodded. "Any holdouts?"

Larson half smiled. "None, sir."

"Put additional guards on the beaming jammers. If those are sabotaged then the 304s can pull us out at will…and if they do manage to infiltrate the base that'll be one of their top priorities."

"Sir," Herreson asked, "are there any other alien transportation devices on base?"

"Good question," Jack said, glancing at Larson who shrugged in response. "Walter!" Jack yelled.

A few moments later the gate technician scurried up the stairwell in a hustle. "Yes, sir?" he said nervously.

"Breathe first, Chief."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir," Walter said heaving more from agitation than exertion. The lockdown had put many people in the SGC on edge. Alien incursion was one thing, but turning against their own President was something new entirely.

"Now…" O'Neill said slowly. "Do we have any alien gizmos lying around that will allow someone to access the SGC from the outside? Any rings or something like that?"

Walter thought hard for ten seconds. "I don't think so, sir. All of that sort of thing usually goes to Area 51."

Jack nodded. "Check on it anyway, will ya?"

"Of course, sir," he said, waiting.

"Dismissed," O'Neill belatedly added.

"Yes, sir," Walter said, hurrying off.

Jack exchanged glances with the two Colonels. "Everybody else like that?"

"A lot of the civilians are," Herreson admitted.

"Not the SG teams," Larson said solidly. "They're committed."

"Keep me posted," O'Neill said, nodding. "If anyone so much as sneezes I want to know."

"Yes, sir," the Colonels said together before heading back down the stairs. Once they were gone Jack could faintly hear Landry's voice on the phone with someone other than the President, based on the tone of his voice.

Jack leaned back in his seat and twiddled his thumbs a few times in obvious protest to the waiting…he preferred taking direct action, and no matter how much the desk job had tried to suck the life out of him it'd failed to change his basic nature.

* * *

Senator Jefferson was reclining in an oversized chair in the club lobby, relishing his recent victory on the golf course as he sipped brandy with the two other congressmen and a lawyer that hadn't faired so well on their outing when an aid approached him with a phone in hand.

Jefferson frowned. "Tell me it's not Jenkins again?"

"No, sir. He says he's an old acquaintance of yours…a George Hammond. He says it's a matter of national security."

The elderly Senator's face hardened. "If you'll excuse me," he told the other members of his party as he stood up and took the phone, "I need to take this in private."

Congressman Rawlings waved him off casually until the name got past the brandy. "Did you say Hammond?"

"I'll let you know," Jefferson said quietly as he walked off. The other congressman and lawyer were oblivious to the name and were committed to not letting the interruption spoil their moment of relaxation.

Jefferson walked over to one of the golf club's panoramic windows in what was an empty section of the enormous lounge. "Jefferson," he said into the phone.

"Senator," Hammond's voice said calmly but urgently across the communications network. "We have a situation."

"I thought you'd retired, General?"

"I am, but a situation has come to my attention that I can't overlook. Jack O'Neill just received an order from the President to move the stargate outside the United States."

"What?!" Jefferson asked, not believing he'd heard right.

"I spoke with him just a few minutes ago. The President threatened him with court martial if he didn't have the gate transferred via beaming technology inside of the hour. You should know that O'Neill intends to disobey that order."

"Are you sure the order came from the President and not just in the President's name?" Jefferson asked, his mind racing through possible scenarios.

"He told me he receiving the order from the President, in person, inside the White House."

"Dear god," was all Jefferson could say.

"I promised O'Neill I'd get the word out while he buys time," Hammond added.

"Good work," Jefferson said, composing his mind into a course of action. "We won't let the President get away with this. I'll call for an emergency meeting of the Senate…at least those with clearance anyway," he added, almost as an afterthought.

"I'll leave you to it then," Hammond said. "I've got some more calls to make."

"Thank you for the tip, General. God…it looks like O'Neill may have saved our asses again. That man must have balls of steel."

"He does," Hammond agreed, "but right now he's on the wrong side of the chain of command."

"I understand," Jefferson said, nodding even though Hammond couldn't see. "I owe you one, General," he said hanging up. He walked back to the lounge chairs in a hurry.

"We have to go, now!" he told Rawlings.

"What's wrong?" Congressman Reynolds asked, half drunk.

"Nothing you need to worry about," Jefferson assured him as he pulled Rawlings away by the elbow.

"Aliens?" Rawlings whispered.

"Worse," Jefferson told him as they headed for the door with his aid following a step behind. "We have to call an emergency session now."

"Now now?" Rawlings asked. "As in tonight?"

"Within the hour," Jefferson told him as a car was pulling up in front for them, no doubt summoned by the astute aid.

Rawlings pulled his arm free of Jefferson's grasp. "You can't get them there that fast."

"No choice," Jefferson said, climbing in the back ahead of Rawlings. He waited until the door closed before adding, "We'll have the 304s beam them in from wherever they are."

"Tell me what's happened," Rawlings demanded as the car began to drive away in a hurry with the aid giving directions from the front seat. The back compartment was sealed so no breach of security was an issue with the driver.

"The President tried to move the stargate out of the country, but O'Neill balked."

Rawlings' face soured. "He can't do that without our approval."

"He just tried," Jefferson reaffirmed, "and if we don't hurry he might still succeed."

Rawlings just looked at the Senator with a blank face for a few seconds, then suddenly pulled out his own cell phone. He dialed a preset number and waited for a connection.

"Rawlings, code 327," he told the person on the other end of the secure line. "Put me through to whoever's in command at Homeworld Security. I need to arrange some immediate transport for members of Congress."


	7. Ch2

Four hours into the lockdown the surface hatch of one of the emergency exit shafts was forcibly opened and two canisters of tear gas were dropped over the edge. The clanked against the walls and ladder until they hit bottom and rattled around for half a second before spewing out an ever thickening cloud of poisonous gas.

Through that gas a long line of black clad, mask wearing special ops teams climbed down the ladder as far as they could until they were backed up in the shaft waiting for the bottom man to burn his way through the hinges of the locked hatch and gain access to the SGC through the 'back door' rather than trying to cut their way through the foot-thick main door on the surface.

After thirty seconds of work the hinges melted through and the door popped ajar. The first man in position kicked open the heavy door halfway before it stuck in place. The gas poured out like a thick mist ahead of the trooper as he edged his way through the gap and into the corridor.

He couldn't see past the cloud until he'd taken three steps and moved into less foggy air…where he caught an intar round in the chest.

It didn't fully penetrate his flak jacket, but the combination of four more tiny energy blasts soaked enough energy through to render him unconscious before he could fire a shot. His finger, however, managed to depress as he fell and peppered the wall with a cascade of ricocheting bullets, one of which hit the man in the left calf before the butt of the gun hit the ground and bounced clear of his hand.

The sound of gunfire, both energy and projectile, prompted the assault team to double time it out of the gap and return fire…but since they had to move out in single file they made perfect targets for the pair of SG teams stationed at either side of the entrance. They'd made a hasty pull back when the gas began pouring out, but had retaken defensive positions further down the hallway lying prone on their chests, aiming upward into the cloud.

The teams alternated constant fire as they changed clips one at a time off sequence so as to not allow the invaders a chance to gain a foothold. Most of the assault team didn't make it outside the cloud, which was continuing to spread out and giving the SG teams some trouble, but the canisters had already depleted themselves and what was in the air was already thinning out considerably.

SG-12 and SG-17 kept up the fire of their stun rounds until the cloud dissipated enough that they could see their fellow teams through a gap in the stack of black clothed bodies cluttering the surface exit. Having kept low to the ground, all friendly fire had traveled through the cloud at knee to chest height and impacted on the ceiling above the opposing team, keeping them safe from each other's cross fire and keeping them below the few bullets that the special ops teams had blindly returned fire with.

Both teams rose to a knee stand while SG-12 sent one man ahead to check out the entrance. He stepped over several bodies before tucking his gun around the corner and spraying a few shots into the shaft, exposing nothing more than his weapon and hand. He pulled the fake P-90 back across his chest…listened…then took a quick glance around the corner.

He took a second peek, then stepped over the back of a downed man and inspected the bottom of the shaft. No one was present…stunned or otherwise. All that remained were the two empty gas canisters.

Not wanting to expose himself by looking up the shaft, the man wrenched the door shut, but with the hinges cut it wouldn't go back all the way. Only the lock held it in place, but it was clearly off center and not matching up to the opening in the wall.

"Get a welding team up here," Colonel Mathison ordered. "And some barricades. They might try again."

One of his team members nodded and got on his radio.

"They were firing live rounds," Colonel Frankfort reminded him.

"Yeah…considerate of them, wasn't it."

Frankfort hefted his intar. "And we've got these?"

"Worked well enough," Mathison argued. "And we don't have to hesitate."

Frankfort snorted. "I didn't see them hesitate either."

"No…they didn't," SG-17's leader said, the worry evident in his voice.

"We're supposed to be on the same side," Frankfort argued, gesturing to the unconscious men beneath their feet that the other team members were disarming and dragging off to the side.

Mathison noticed one of the downed men's hand flexing. He pointed his intar at the man's forehead and delivered another shot. "Somebody doesn't think so."

Frankfort shook his head. "I don't like where this is heading."

"Neither do I, but we're not the ones using live rounds."

"I can't believe the President ordered this. Someone else must be pulling the strings."

"Doesn't matter. We've got a job to do either way."

Frankfort nodded once. "Brig?"

"Radio for another team to come get them. We can't let our guard down. These guys seem to want in here pretty bad…and right now the door won't shut."

"You calling it in?"

"We might not be the only one?" Mathison echoed his fellow Colonel's thoughts as he grabbed his radio's call button. "Mathison to General O'Neill."

"O'Neill…what do ya got?"

"Assault team came down number four shaft. We stopped them, no casualties…but they were firing live rounds. One of their own men took a hit in the leg."

"Get him down to the infirmary under guard. Once they patch him up transfer him to a holding cell."

"Any other activity, sir?"

"Shaft two got hit five minutes ago," O'Neill told him. "Lieutenant Rathbone took one in the arm, but SG-7 and 18 kept them out."

"Good to know, sir. We'll continue to keep them out here, but we could use a couple barricades if they come back again in larger numbers."

"Way ahead of you," O'Neill informed him. "Equipment is already on the way. Couple one way shield generators too."

"That'd be useful if we're going to be dodging bullets."

"Yeah..." O'Neill said oddly.

"Not your fault, sir," Mathison said firmly. "We didn't draw first blood. They did."

"Never said it was," O'Neill smarted back, "…but thanks."

"You do what you need to, General…we've got your back all the way."

"Probably better seal that shaft permanently," Jack suggested.

"Already have a welding team enroute," Mathison assured him.

* * *

"Good," O'Neill said from the briefing room on one of six radios lying out on the table, "by the way, did they use gas?"

"That's an affirmative," Colonel Mathison's voice answered back.

"Your team alright?" Jack asked.

"Couple blurry eyes, but that's the worst of it. We managed to pull back in time."

"There's some gas masks in the equipment package coming up, along with a medic. Have your men checked out just in case."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Anything else to add?"

"No, sir. That just about covers it."

"Good work up there, Colonel. O'Neill out," he finished, putting the radio back on the table before slamming his fist down alongside it.

"Jack…" Landry said quietly from behind him. O'Neill hadn't noticed he'd come out of his office.

"What?"

"We've lost all communications with the outside."

O'Neill looked up at him. "Everything?"

Landry nodded. "I was on the phone with General Neville when the lines were cut. I had Siler check, and it looks like they cut the hard lines at the surface as well as jammed the mobile signals."

"What did the General have to say?" Jack said, not dwelling on the worsening situation.

"He said you were out of line, but he was livid when I told him about the assault. I think he was coming over to our side when we were cut off."

"Now we can't get the word out," Jack said, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

"You can look at it this way," Landry said, sitting down in a chair next to him. "If they're cutting off communications, we must have started to get through to somebody. The fact that they assaulted the SGC no less than four hours after lockdown suggests they're in a hurry. If we can hold them off a while longer the President's political enemies may eat him alive."

"But we have no way of knowing what's going on out there?"

"No...we don't. We don't even have the surface surveillance cameras anymore. We're totally blind."

"Well," Jack said sarcastically as he stood up, "if I'm going to end up being General Custer, the least I can do is dress the part," he said, referring to the civilian clothes he was still wearing.

"If I may?" Landry asked.

"May what?"

"You look like you could use some sleep," Landry said gently.

"Yeah, well now's not the time."

"This could drag on a long time, Jack. I'll look after things for a few hours while you grab a cat nap."

Jack looked off to the side in thought, then turned back with a lowered head.

"When's the last time you slept?" Hank asked.

"Before I went to Dakara," O'Neill admitted.

"Geez, Jack. You've got to be running on empty by now."

"Coffee, actually," O'Neill corrected him. "Two hours…and I'll keep a radio on me."

"Make it three," Landry insisted.

"Two," O'Neill ordered. "Wake me if I oversleep."

"Two," Landry agreed, walking back to his office. "Maybe then you'll be clear headed enough to realize you need more sleep."

"Funny," O'Neill said to his back as he walked back into his office where his once active phone was now dead to the outside world. Jack turned to the stairwell and headed down to his semi-permanent quarters on base where he kept several spare uniforms and other odds and ends for use on his trips out from Washington.

He put the radio he'd taken from the briefing room on his lamp stand and put it on the 'all channel' feature so he'd hear anything and everything that was going on in the facility. Right now the channels were clear, but he kept the volume up high just in case he nodded off further than he planned.

Jack pulled off his jacket and sneakers and laid down on his bed, thinking he'd stay awake and mentally run through his next move, but as soon as his head hit the pillow the mounting fatigue surged past the adrenaline and pulled his eyelids down almost against his will. Thirty seconds later and he was sound asleep.

* * *

"Found it," Vala announced, pointing her gun-mounted flashlight at a small metal box set at the base of one of the tree trunks. On top of it was what looked like a foot pad…and it was a mere three steps away from the 'front' of the rings.

"Now what?" Carter asked.

"We take a look," Mitchell told her.

Sam raised her eyebrows. "We have no idea what we'd be walking into."

Mitchell looked at her softly. "I'm open to ideas."

"I will go," Teal'c declared.

"You're just a bigger target," Hailey argued.

Teal'c raised an eyebrow in the dim moonlight but didn't say anything. Instead he pulled off his pack and retrieved a small armband from the main pouch.

"How long have you had that?" Mitchell asked.

"A while," the Jaffa answered.

"Is that a Sodan cloaking device?" Vala asked.

"It is," Teal'c answered.

"What about the radiation?" Carter argued.

"I am Jaffa."

"Your Tretonin?" Vala guessed.

"Indeed," Teal'c said as he slipped on the forearm gauntlet.

"I'm not sure it works that way Teal'c," Carter warned.

"I will be fine," he assured her.

"Do you know that for a fact," Carter asked, "or are you just guessing?"

"It is not the first time," Teal'c told her.

"Doesn't mean there aren't long term effects."

"I will be fine," Teal'c reiterated.

"Alright," Mitchell decided. "Ring in, look around for a few seconds, then we'll ring you back out. If it's clear we'll all go in."

"Why not just radio if it's clear?" Hailey asked.

"We don't know where it will go," Carter told her. "Could be the other side of the planet."

"Right," Hailey said, mentally kicking herself for asking such a stupid question.

Teal'c walked into the center of the rings and activated his cloak. "I am ready," his voice said from nowhere.

Vala stepped on the button and five seconds later the rings exposed themselves from the ground niche and transported the invisible Teal'c somewhere.

"Not up," Vala commented at the lack of visual streak that appeared when two rings connected. It wasn't much, but in the nighttime it would have stood out in stark contrast to the dark vegetation.

"Subterranean?" Hailey offered.

Carter nodded. "Probably…or lateral transition across the horizon."

"Due to the curvature of the planet's surface," the younger Captain added.

"Well, that's probably long enough," Vala said aloud before stepping on the button again.

The rings returned and deposited nothing back into the forest. A moment later Teal'c became visible again. "Come…it is clear, but I know not how long that will remain the case."

The three members of SG-1 all clustered inside the rings around Teal'c while Vala remained over the button. "Ready?"

"Do it," Mitchell ordered.

Vala stepped on the button then darted over to the small hole they'd left for her in the formation. It was a tight fit, but Vala's petite form didn't take up very much space. A second later the rings activated for a third time and whisked them all away.


	8. Ch3

The rings deposited SG-1 at the end of a long, deserted Earth-style hallway. There were no doors or connecting shafts for ten meters or so…just a long kill zone had anyone been waiting for them. Fortunately there wasn't.

"Teal'c," Mitchell said behind the butt of his P-90.

The Jaffa stepped forward and disappeared from view beneath his Sodan cloak and went forward to scout the area.

Cam gave him a silent three count then cautiously proceeded down the squarish hallway up to the nearest door. He gently pulled down on the handle but found it firmly locked. There was no window in the door, just a small swipe card lock next to where the bolt would be.

The Colonel nodded ahead and the four visible members of SG-1 continued their slow, methodical steps trying to stay as silent as possible. The corridors were dead quiet, making even the slightest boot strikes echo loudly. Cam and the others were heel/toeing it awkwardly to try and eliminate that sound both to avoid detection and to keep their own hearing clear so they could detect others within the facility…or whatever it was.

Somehow Teal'c wasn't making a sound…whether it was the Jaffa's skill or some function of the Sodan cloak Mitchell wasn't sure, but right now Teal'c was a ghost.

_Probably the cloak_, he mentally concluded.

A narrow arch marked the junction with another corridor branching off to the right. Teal'c hadn't signaled them so Cam assumed it was clear and poked his head around briefly to confirm that fact.

Clear…long and clear, actually. The corridor stretched an unbelievably long way until it seemed to end in some heavy doors…or concrete wall. Mitchell wasn't sure which. He glanced back and forth between the two options, finally deciding not to turn. He waved the others forward.

"Ow!" Vala said when she suddenly ran into a force shield.

"What the hell?" Mitchell said as Hailey ran the tip of her P-90 across the invisible barrier separating them from Sam and Cam. It sparkled orange on touch, then vanished when she lowered her weapon.

"Oh, that's not good," Sam commented.

Suddenly the silence was broken by an ominous hissing sound.

"Get back to the rings," Cam told them quickly.

Vala hesitated but Hailey ran backwards the moment he issued the order.

"Go…" Mitchell yelled, prompting her to move as well. She looked ahead at the rings, wondering if there was even an activation button when Haley reached the end of the hall and bounced off another shield that was blocking them from their exit.

"No good," Vala called back. "Maybe you can get out another way."

"Carter!" Mitchell ordered, pointing down the side hallway. He was already starting to feel faint as he slowly ran off the other way. His vision started to blur as he heard another shield impact and a high pitched grunt that he assumed was Carter.

The next thing he knew his knees buckled and he slumped against the wall. A few seconds later he blacked out.

* * *

"Sheppard," McKay said, surprised as he passed him in the hallway.

"Rodney," John said with a nod as he walked by.

"Haven't seen you for a while," McKay commented.

Sheppard stopped a couple feet past Rodney and turned around to face him. "Busy, busy," he replied.

"Yes, who isn't these days? Where are you off to?"

"Primary chair room," John said, seeming to be in a hurry.

"Primary?"

"We added three more," he said, half turning to leave.

"Wait a minute…what are you going there for?" he said quickly as the now snobby Alterran began to drift back down the hallway.

"It's time," John said, turning away and walking on.

"Time? Time for what?" McKay yelled after him.

"To return home."

"Home?!" McKay burst out and chased after him.

* * *

Seven minutes later Rodney stood in the doorway to the chair room as Sheppard slid into the blue/white seat. It lit up upon physical contact with his Ancient physiology and he leaned back comfortably.

"Are we sure about this?" Rodney asked.

"All part of the plan," John said, materializing a large hologram of the desert above the chair for Rodney's sake. Mentally he activated the city-wide intercom. "Attention citizens of Atlantis…and Asgard guests. In a few moments the city will be lifting off from the surface. Don't be alarmed if you start to see stars out the windows instead of sand. However, I recommend that everyone stay inside the city walls and not on the surface. The atmosphere will remain steady within the shield, but I'd feel better if you guys weren't hitting golf balls off the balcony while we're in transit. Other than that and the stargate being offline, normal operations will continue in all areas. Sit back and relax…this should be a smooth ride."

"Golf?" McKay asked.

John adjusted the hologram and zoomed in on one small section of the city. Four men and two women were picking up clubs and buckets of balls off the platform and retreating indoors.

"Oh…I thought we stopped doing that when we ran out of water."

"Nope," John said as he warmed up the city's stardrive, "now we send a replicator out to fetch the balls back."

"How ingenuous," McKay dryly commented.

"I thought so," John said mirthfully as the hologram reset to a citywide view overtop the sprawling infrastructure on the planet's surface. The single Terra built beneath the city had grow out into several hundred structures that housed the planet's mining infrastructure, all of which held back the blowing sand with thin protective shields. The structures themselves were hardy enough not to be damaged by the environment, but there was a very real possibility that over time they could be completely buried by the slowly moving dunes that the planet had been named after. The shields kept this from happening as well as covering the small spaceport that had been constructed just north of the Terra.

McKay crossed his arms over his chest. "Tell me that wasn't your idea?"

"Guilty as charged," John admitted. "You wouldn't believe how long I can drive nowadays."

"Ancient muscles and all," McKay guessed jealously.

"Alterran muscles," John corrected him. "By the way, how close are you to breaking 20 minutes?"

"24:57 if you must know," Rodney said grumpily.

"Eight minute pace?"

"I apologize," McKay mocked, "if my overwhelming intellect took the lion's share of the talent away from my body."

"That's just an excuse."

"Says the superhuman."

"If there's one thing I've learned from all the neural downloads, it's that you can customize your body an awful lot if you know how to train properly."

"I'm sorry," Rodney said with just a hint of desperation in his voice, "but I don't think I can handle more than 5 miles a day."

John lifted his head up off the chair in surprise. "You're running _five_ a day?"

"Yeah," Rodney said sheepishly, "for what little good it does."

"Have you even read the training manuals?" John criticized him.

"Skimmed them, why?"

"You're training for 3.1 miles, not five."

"So?"

"You're not getting more speed because you're going too far."

"Meaning what?" Rodney said, perking up a bit, but also very confused.

"Use Hi/Lo training," John suggested.

"Never heard of it."

"High speed, Low drag," the Alterran explained. "Set the pace computer to…7min pace. Then see how far you can last at that speed."

"7min pace is 21:42 for 5k," McKay quickly calculated.

"Training and racing, Rodney."

"So what, I just keep at it until I can make 5k?"

"No, you get a mile in each day, or half a mile, or whatever it is you can handle right now and let your body adjust to the higher rate of turnover…then you start increasing the distance up to 2 or 2.5 miles. Once you get there," Sheppard continued, "you don't go farther, you go faster, and faster, and faster."

"Until I get up to 20min 5k speed," Rodney said, starting to catch on. "Then I, what? Take a leap of faith and hope I can stretch it out the rest of the way?"

"The adrenaline of a time trial will enhance your workout speed…not to mention taking a couple of days easy before you try. Easy by going shorter, not slower."

"Why hasn't anybody mentioned this before?"

John shrugged. "It's all in the database."

"Truth be told, whenever I'm in the unsecured section of the database," he said with mild rebuke over not having access to the more sensitive information, "I usually browse through the scientific stuff."

"You really ought to read more," Sheppard suggested.

"Yeah, well that's funny coming from someone who's downloaded most of his knowledge."

"Ok then, download more."

"You won't let me!" McKay protested.

"Sure we will," John mocked. "Right after you earn it."

McKay slumped back against the wall. "What is it with Ancients and rites of passage anyway?"

"It's just part of our mojo," John said, concentrating. "Star drive's ready. Here we go."

* * *

Up in the control tower Elizabeth felt a slight rumbling coming from deep inside the ship a moment before the horizon seemed to drop out of existence. On impulse, and in defiance of Sheppard's warning, she walked over to the nearest balcony and went outside.

She hung her torso over the railing and watched the surface of Dune and the settlement shrink away beneath them. It didn't matter how many times Atlantis moved through space from planet to planet…she was awestruck every time she witnessed the transition.

She was in a flying city…A FLYING CITY!!! Even though she now worked alongside the people who had built Atlantis in the first place she still marveled at the Ancient's ingenuity and power. She realized just how much of the Lantean's strength had come not from their own making, but from the Alterra and how the line between first generation Ancient and second generation Ancient had been blurred beyond recognition.

Well, now that she was an Ancient too, junior grade anyway, that difference stood out in stark contrast to her previous perspective and opinions. She was truly blessed to be in the position she was in now, and despite all the heartaches and tribulations that she'd endured since being called to the White House only a handful of years ago to be told about the stargate program, she wouldn't have done anything differently had she the chance again. She was living a dream…and had never been more content.

Suddenly her mind flashed back to her many failures and the ones that had been lost.

"Ok," she whispered as the city left the atmosphere and the stars began to shine in the blackness around them, "maybe some things I'd do differently."

Elizabeth waited on the balcony until Atlantis made the jump into hyperspace and the planet disappeared into a wash of blue/white, then she returned inside, back to the command platform and her duties as city leader.

It was good to be an Ancient.

* * *

O'Neill woke to someone shaking his shoulder.

For a moment he was groggy, but when his mind transitioned from the dream realm back into the current situation he sat up bolt straight and recognized Landry's face.

"How long have I been out?"

"Eight hours."

Jack frowned. "I said wake me in TWO HOURS!"

Landry shrugged. "Technically you're no longer my commanding officer. I can do what I want."

O'Neill narrowed his eyes as his mind fully defogged. "What's happened."

"Nothing until three minutes ago. You better get dressed and see this for yourself."

* * *

Four minutes later a fully uniformed General O'Neill ran up the steps into the control room where Landry and Colonel Larson were waiting for him.

"They're cutting through the main door," Larson said, pointing at a small video screen.

"I thought we lost all surface telemetry?" O'Neill asked.

"We did," Landry confirmed. "It came back on when they started cutting."

"Accidently?" Jack said, not believing it.

"Probably hoping we'll get the message and surrender," Larson commented.

"Fat chance," Jack said under his breath. "How about the phones?"

"Still out," Landry confirmed.

Jack tilted his chin toward the screen. "How long?"

"Siler?" Landry barked.

"Based on conservative estimates," the technician said, appearing from the background, "at least twelve hours."

Jack nodded. "Then we give Hammond another twelve hours."

"Hammond?" Landry asked.

"I talked to him before I came here. He promised he'd do his best to get the word out…and right now he's our only mouthpiece."

"Good thinking," Landry said in approval.

"And in twelve hours?" Larson asked.

"We'll jump off that bridge when we come to it," Jack answered.

"Yes, sir."

"In the mean time, see what kind of barricades we can put up over the main door. Maybe buy us a few more hours."

"Siler," Landry ordered.

"Yes, sir. Already on it," he said, disappearing from view.

"Feeling better," Landry half whispered.

Jack thought for a moment. "Hungry, actually."

"Walter," Landry said over his shoulder. "If anything happens we'll be in the commissary."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm hungry too," Hank said. "Plus, all we can do right now is wait."

"Be glad for the company," Jack admitted.

* * *

"You know," Jack said over a piece of pie, "sometimes I wonder if things wouldn't be different if we just told the planet about the stargate."

Landry looked up from his own dessert, a piece of chocolate cake. "You can't be serious?"

Jack gulped another piece. "Why not?"

"Riots, for one."

"Over what?" Jack argued. "In my _vast_ experience people usually riot when they're being screwed over in some way."

"You don't think being lied to counts as being screwed?" Landry asked.

"Not to that level, no."

Landry shook his head. "I think you're being a bit optimistic of human nature…besides, politicians would still run the show either way. Not sure what we'd gain from the revelation."

"I know…" Jack admitted in defeat. "It just feels disingenuous somehow."

"Big word…"

"Yeah, well, my desk has one of these word-a-day calendars…" Jack said, shrugging.

"You can save the world from destruction," Landry said, taking a guess, "but you can't be honest with them."

Jack's head came up slightly. "Exactly."

"It's crossed my mind too," Landry said, slicing off another piece of chocolate fluff.

"And?"

"I try not to dwell on it," he said, putting the piece into his mouth. "Na-ture of the business we're in."

"Rookie," Jack said, eating another piece of pie.

"Rookie?" Landry said, taking slight offense. "How much longer do I have to be in command of the SGC before I lose that moniker?"

"How many times have you saved the planet?"

Landry laughed. "You have a point."

A crackle of static broke through the din followed by Walter's voice. "General Landry to the gateroom. Repeat, General Landry to the gateroom."

Both Generals dropped their forks and left the remains of their desserts on the table.

* * *

"What have we got, Walter?" Landry asked, two steps ahead of O'Neill.

"Sir, SG-3 just returned from offworld."

"I've got it," Jack said, turning around. He met Colonel Reynolds and company at the door exiting the gateroom.

"General," Reynolds greeted him as O'Neill stopped their forward progress with an upraised hand.

"Long story short…President tried to steal the gate…we're in lockdown buying time for the politicians and brass to chew his head off."

"Did you say 'steal' the gate, sir?" Reynolds said carefully.

"I did…they've already tried to breach security in two locations and are in the process of cutting through the main door right now."

"I don't believe it."

"Believe it or not, it's happening. Get cleaned up and rearmed with intars. We need you on the line."

"Yes, sir," Reynolds said, snapping into action mode. "Let's go," he said over his shoulder to the other members of his unit.

"General," Landry's voice echoed through the gateroom. "We've had communications reinstated."

"Odd," Jack whispered to himself as he reversed direction and climbed back into the control room.

"The phone lines just opened up…all of them. This came through first," Landry told him warily as he handed him a printout. On it was a message from the President.

**Your attempted coup has failed, General O'Neill. The Congress has chosen not to oppose my decision to move the stargate and the military leaders you tried to woo to your side have capitulated as well. Surrender the SGC immediately and I'll let you retire without penalty. Continue this siege and you will be going to jail for the rest of your life.**

**- President of the United States Frank Cornwallis**

Jack chewed on his cheek for a moment then crunched the paper up into a wad, threw it on the floor, and stomped on it several times in comical frustration. Eventually he stopped and looked around at the gazes he was getting from the control room staff.

"Feel better?" Landry asked, sensing O'Neill's thespianism.

"A little," Jack admitted. "Get on the horn and check this out."

"You think they're bluffing?"

Jack pointed to the viewscreen of the troops on the surface. "If it was a done deal would they still be cutting through the door?"

"Good point," Landry said, not having considered that. "I'll see what I can find out."


	9. Ch4

"Well?" Jack asked Landry as he stepped out of his office.

"Not exactly what the President said, but still bad news. The Congress ordered him to stand down and he refused, but short of removing him from office there's nothing they can really do…and they've made it clear that option's off the table. They'd have to inform the public about the details if he was kicked out of the White House, and that's something they unanimously said couldn't happen."

Jack suddenly felt sick to his stomach. "They're balking?"

"No…the President is holding his ground, burning any and all bridges in the process. His influence and power are gone, but so long as he is in office he can't be overruled. He's falling on his sword for this…somebody out there must want the stargate in a bad way."

"What about the rest of the military?"

"Ready to roast him alive, but they won't act without Congress's blessing. Personally, I don't see any way out of this, Jack. You might want to consider the retirement offer while it's on the table."

"No…" O'Neill said firmly. "If Congress won't act because they'd have to tell the public what's going on, then we'll save them the trouble and do it ourselves," he said standing up and walking down to the control room in a hurry.

"Jack…you can't," Landry argued from behind him.

"Watch me."

* * *

Teal'c woke with a headache and blurred vision, lying prone on the floor. His staff weapon was pinched under his chest, resulting no doubt in the ache coming from his shoulder. He must have been lying unconscious on it for many hours.

The Jaffa focused and blinked away the grogginess enough to sit up. There was a wall inches away and he pulled himself over to it and leaned his back against the smooth stone. A moment later he frowned as he realized where he was.

He was sitting in the hallway where he had fallen, and everything around him seemed a bit off…

_The cloak_, he thought, checking the device on his wrist.

It was still active.

The realization that the enemy had made a vital mistake flushed the remaining sedation from his mind and he stood up, staff weapon in hand. He walked back down the hallway he'd come from and checked the previous intersection. One lone person was walking down the long corridor and ducked inside an adjacent door, but no one else was in sight. SG-1 was gone, probably captured, but they'd missed Teal'c…and they were going to pay for that oversight.

Slipping into his well honed tracking mode, Teal'c began to search the facility, looking for both his friends…and the enemy.

* * *

"He ordered what?" Dan asked, aghast.

"Full disclosure," Mark told his fellow scientist. "They're putting together an information packet now. We need to find as many ways of disseminating the information as we can."

"This is nuts," Dan whispered.

"I think 'nuts' is the General's middle name," Mark said as he started to work on his laptop. "We can't just use civilian links, we need to send it to every government agency around the planet. Start compiling a list of likely candidates in Asia, will ya?"

"Sure," Dan said as Mark's mind went off into academic mode, dismissing all else around him. He was going to follow O'Neill's orders and blow the top off the whole shebang just to get back at the President. Dan didn't know what kind of riots and civil unrest would result from the revelation, but he figured it wouldn't be pretty no matter how it went down.

One thing was for sure…the days of the SGC were over if the secret ever got out, as was his job. Bring the civilians into the equation and he'd be squeezed out overnight by people deemed 'more qualified' just because of their pompous citations. The covert aspect of this assignment was the only reason Dan, a former CIA software analyst, had been pegged for consideration. Bring in the masses and he'd be relegated to fixing office laptops...

No, this had to stop now before it went too far. The President was the ranking officer, not General O'Neill. Granted, he didn't think moving the stargate was a good idea either, but the General had gotten way out of line and it was the responsibility of those serving in the SGC to obey the orders of the commander and chief…let alone defend national security.

It was going to be a few hours before they could assemble a full list of routing codes so Dan had time, he hoped, to stop this catastrophe from happening.

He glanced over at Mark and saw he was fully enveloped in his work. Dan pulled his own laptop screen slightly askew from Mark's view next to him just enough for the security filter to make the image unreadable. He waited a few minutes, going about his assigned tasks without incident, before writing a brief text message and sending it off to the terminals above the base where the President's men were now stationed.

Dan glanced at his fellow scientist again, but Mark hadn't noticed. Dan closed the communications prompt and went back to work with the knowledge that he'd done his duty...and most likely saved his job.

* * *

"General O'Neill!" Walter called out suddenly. "All communications have been severed again."

"What?!" Jack yelled from a few dozen feet down the hall where he was talking with SG-19.

"I'm sorry, sir. Everything just went down," the technical Sergeant confirmed with a softer voice when Jack came into the control room.

"We've got nothing then?"

"No, sir," Walter said apologetically.

"That doesn't make any sense," Landry interjected. "Why would they cut it off now? They've already won."

"Have you been making more phone calls?" Jack asked.

Landry shrugged innocently. "Haven't needed to. That's why I don't understand this, unless it's just out of spite."

"Or someone snitched," O'Neill growled.

Landry's eyes narrowed dangerous. "If they did we'll find out. There's nowhere they can run."

"Yeah," Jack said, his eyes drifting to the stargate. "Any word from our offworld teams?"

"Not since SG-2 radioed in an hour ago, no," Landry told him.

O'Neill was silent for a long minute, looking out the window at the gate. No one dared interrupt him. Everyone knew that the hammer was going to come down on him the hardest. These were probably his last few private moments before being hauled off to a jail cell for the rest of his life.

"Keep working on the info packet," he finally ordered. "We need to be ready if the lines open up again. And have Siler keep trying to find another way of getting the word out."

"Will do," Landry confirmed. "In the mean time I'll do a little checking to see if we have a rat on base."

"I'll be around," Jack said half sarcastically as he left the control room and headed farther into the base. He wasn't headed anywhere in particular, but he felt like he needed to get away so he began a quiet little tour of the facility.

He checked on the SG teams guarding the auxiliary exits…the guards put on the beaming jammers…the prisoners in the holding cells…the scientists working on his plan, which he'd belatedly nicknamed Project: Facepalm.

After that he walked through the less populated areas…through the storage rooms, power generation, empty personnel wings…he didn't know what was going to happen, but he had an eerie sense that he wouldn't be seeing the SGC again and felt compelled to say a personal goodbye while he still had the time.

Jack spent the next four hours wondering about but eventually ended up back in Landry's office.

"Any change?" he asked.

Hank shook his head. "None…but we did find the rat. One of the scientists working on the project. He sent a text message to the surface...we assume the President's men relayed it from there. We've got the man, a Dr. Dan Irving, in a holding cell if you want to take a poke at him," Landry said, meaning every word.

"Wouldn't do any good now," O'Neill said, his last hope gone. If the President had been informed there was no way they were getting communications back. "How much time is left on the clock?"

"A little over five hours…"

O'Neill nodded. "I need to borrow your computer."

Landry was silent for a moment. "Falling on your sword?"

"None of you asked for this," Jack said quickly. "I'll try and clean it up best I can. Pick out one of the prisoners to deliver a message to the surface."

"We'll have to cut the doors back open," Landry noted, his tone sullen.

"Better get started. We need to beat their cutting teams to avoid a firefight."

"Alright, Jack," Landry said, standing up and spinning his seat around. "The chair's all yours."

"Thanks," O'Neill whispered as he sat down. Landry looked at him sadly then turned to leave.

"Hank."

"Yeah?" Landry answered, turning back around.

"Deprive the rat of his clothes."

Hank half smiled. "Will do."

* * *

After O'Neill finished typing up his letter, addressed to the people of the United States and not the treasonous, backstabbing President, he printed it out and signed it. As he set the pen down beside the paper he felt a pang of separation. It was the last signature he'd ever write on this desk. Part of him was ok with that…he'd always hated paperwork…but it also stung with the bitter taste of defeat.

He'd done his part…stopped the quick, devious transport of the stargate and gave the American government the time to act…but as politicians always do, they'd screwed it up. Jack knew he wasn't at fault, but that didn't make him feel any better. After all that had transpired over the past two decades it was politicians that were going to do them in.

Somehow that seemed appropriate. Jack and the other few good men and women in the stargate program couldn't carry the planet forever. They'd bought them time to grow and learn to defend themselves, but Earth seemed hell-bent on its self destruction…at least Jack wasn't going to be around to see it happen.

As he stared down at the single piece of paper O'Neill's mind flashed back to the first time the politicians tried to shut down the stargate program…and how they'd had to defy orders and go through the gate in order to try and defend Earth against a Goa'uld attack.

Jack was tired of working with backstabbing, greedy, unscrupulous morons. At least that part of his life was coming to an end…he just hadn't wished it'd be this way.

None the less, he was finally cutting that cord. A small part of his inner self relished the moment for what it was as he left Landry's office and headed back to his quarters, but the overwhelming sense of sadness persisted.

He opened the door to his quarters and gratuitously slammed the door behind him. The bang felt good and jolted him from his stupor. He was in danger…and he had to get out of here while he still had the chance. If the forces outside got their hands on him…or his own men decided to act in their stead…he was a goner. He'd done the prison thing before and silently steeled himself to never letting that happen again.

Jack pulled open his closet and looked at the half dozen uniforms hanging up there. All were variations of his dress uniform…save one.

He started to peel off the dress uniform he wore now and let the pieces of the bureaucratic monkey suit fall to the ground where they belonged. Wearing nothing but his underwear Jack pulled out the field uniform that he'd kept around for the off chance of needing to go offworld as much as for old times sake and began to pull on the dark green fatigues.

As he laced up his combat boots the sadness of the situation faded away as old memories flashed back to the surface. He was a warrior, not a paper pusher. He never should have accepted the promotion to General. He belonged in the field, not an office. He'd figured he could do more good for the stargate program and Earth as a General in the shiny upper brass…

He silently kicked himself for his naivety. He should have known better. The politicians were always in charge. The only thing he'd accomplished was to stall the downfall of the planet. He couldn't stop it.

Well, if it was an alien invasion, sure…but when it was Earth's own doing the damage there wasn't anything he could do about that. Earth was going to survive or fall based on the actions of its people, and if they wanted to self destruct that was their business now. Jack was glad to finally wash his hands of the mess. He liked the planet well enough, but he liked sanity more…and now it was time to go.

O'Neill finished lacing up his second boot and stood up in front of the mirror.

"Where have you been?" he asked his image as if he were Peter Pan talking to his shadow.

Jack patted down the uniform on his chest, visually acknowledging his lack of gear. He didn't have any stashed away here…he'd have to stop by the armory.

"Here goes," he said to himself as he stepped out of his former quarters and walked casually down the hallway. He felt both scared and excited at the same time. He didn't know where he was going or what he was going to do, and that prospect was unnerving, but it was also exhilarating. He felt _**alive**_ for the first time in years…

Maybe Daniel had the right idea after all.


	10. Ch5

Vala laid crumpled up in a ball in the corner of a cell when she finally awoke. Her groggy eyes struggled to focus in the dim light, but the Human style prison bars were clearly visible in front of her. She shook her head clear and glanced around…she was alone in the cell.

"Wonderful," she muttered to herself as she got to her feet, though a bit wobbly.

"Now…what do we have to work with," she said, inspecting the bars. The hinges were well oiled, the latch solid, and the locking mechanism on the outside of the cell. Her fingers reached around and felt for the keyhole.

"Damn," she whispered, feeling a card swipe slot. Vala turned around and looked at the rest of the cell…four bare walls, a floor, and a ceiling.

"Well…this is going to be a challenge," she declared. "Guard!"

"Guard?" she asked in a more subdued voice when no one responded. She pushed her face up against the bars and tried to look down the hallway. "Anybody?"

Vala pulled back and sighed. "Well it doesn't seem like I'm going to be using my wits to get out of this…or my charm…guess that leaves waiting to be rescued," she said experimentally.

"Right," she whispered. "What other options do I have?"

Vala looked around at the empty cell. She didn't have anything other than the clothes on her back.

She rubbed the loose collar of her uniform shirt and raised an eyebrow. "Hmmn."

* * *

Half an hour later Vala heard someone approaching and smiled to herself, but held perfectly still. When the guards came into view of her cell she heard one of them gasp.

Lying with her face towards the wall opposite the bars, but with the rest of her body face up on the _very_ cold floor, the completely nude Vala had quite an effect on the two male guards that had come for her…but she dare not move. Not yet.

A sick, creepy feeling manifested in her gut but she pushed it aside…she needed to appear as serene and helpless as possible so the guards would come in close where she could kick them in the head and take whatever weapons they might be carrying.

"Well, this is an unexpected treat," a third individual said, whose footfalls sounded a couple of heartbeats later.

Vala didn't recognize the voice, but it had a distinctive accent. She assumed it was Chinese, but to be honest she hadn't studied that boring branch of Earth's culture in much detail. She'd dealt with Honor-centric societies before and found they gave her a headache.

That creepy feeling wouldn't abate, and even as Vala heard the door to her cell open and the moment of opportunity presented itself she couldn't shake the sense that something was terribly wrong.

The guards had come to remove her to another chamber and, in lieu of her actually walking, they were more than pleased to manhandle her naked body and moved in to pick her up.

The was a brief dispute as to who got which end, but one groped her chest as he got a grip on her torso and began to lift her up. Before the other could grab her feet she pulled her left knee up and, flexing backwards, gave her joints enough range to smash her kneecap into the man's forehead.

He staggered backwards in shock, but Vala didn't hesitate. She quickly kicked the other guard in the groin and got to her feet in a fighting stance, looking for weapons…but there were none. She noted the presence of a man in the hallway but he was out of reach so she hit the first man in the throat with stiffened knuckles and dropped him to the ground. She turned around and punched the other man, still struggling with her hit to his groin, in the face one, two, three times.

She finished him off with a heel kick to the face then ran to the open door to attack the remaining guard with a double-legged jump kick to his midsection.

The third man saw it coming and easily knocked her legs aside. Vala fell hard to the floor but tried to leg sweep the man despite knocking her head pretty good. She managed to knock one leg out from under him, but the other held firm and he caught his balance.

With a super-humanly strong grip the man reached down and picked Vala up off the floor by the throat and brought her face up near his. "Nice try," he said amicably.

The creepy feeling inside Vala finally clicked in place and her eyes widened with recognition. The man noticed her reaction and frowned…then his eyes widened with realization. He glanced back in the cell, confirming that both guards were unconscious on the floor, then shook his head at Vala.

"_Now what am I going to do with you, Human_," he said in an altered voice, finishing the last word off with a very familiar eye flash.

* * *

"General O'Neill," Walter called out excitedly as Jack neared the gateroom. "Your list, sir," he said after he caught up with him and handed him a thick stapled set of papers.

"Thank you, Chief," O'Neill said, pulling his equipment pack off his shoulders and stuffing the papers inside.

"Sir…," Walter continued, "it's been an honor," he finished with a salute.

O'Neill lazily returned it. "Thank you," he said, pulling his overstuffed pack back on.

"The others are waiting for you in the gateroom," Walter added.

O'Neill clapped the technician on the shoulder and moved on.

"Sir?" Walter asked quickly.

"Ya?" Jack said, hesitating.

"Where do you want to go?"

O'Neill walked on then shouted back over his shoulder, "Somewhere with trees."

"With trees?" Walter whispered to himself, trying to process the General's meaning. After a moment he walked back up into the gateroom and starting to sift through all the addresses in the database and pick out a safe one that 'had trees.'

"Attention!" Landry barked when the doors to the gateroom opened.

All the SG teams on base stood in a tightly packed formation in respect for O'Neill with only a thin path to the gate remaining between the green uniformed mass.

Jack nodded to them as he walked through their ranks to the foot of the ramp heading up to the stargate as the inner track spun as Walter dialed an address.

"I guess this is goodbye," Landry said.

"All good things…" Jack noted.

"Unfortunately," Landry echoed, catching his reference.

Jack turned to address all others present. Even those in the control room were standing at attention, visible through the safety glass.

"I'm sorry things had to go down this way. I hope the powers that be don't take it out on you guys, and I've written a letter to the suits taking full responsibility for this botched operation. From here on out I honestly don't know what's going to happen…for me or for you, but I want you to know that I don't regret my actions, or my decision to oppose the President. It was the right thing to do, and like the cliché clearly states, now comes the punishment."

"I've never been prouder of any group of men under my command. The work you've done in the SGC over the years makes you all true heroes…and your recent behavior has once again confirmed that fact. It's been an honor serving with you all…good luck."

The stargate activated with a kawoosh over the ramp then settled down into the typical event horizon.

"Hank, I'd like to ask you a favor."

"Anything," Landry said.

"Tell Hammond this was the only way it could have gone down. I couldn't have sat on my hands and done nothing."

"Sure thing, Jack."

O'Neill stepped up onto the ramp and took a few steps. He unclipped the P-90 from his vest and held it ready in both hands across his chest. He felt like he should say more, but couldn't find the words. He turned his head back and nodded to everyone once more beneath his green cap then walked the last few steps up the ramp and into the event horizon.

Landry watched him disappear into the blue glow then checked his watch. It'd been ten minutes since they'd dispatched the prisoner with the letter up through the emergency hatch. It should have reached the commander on the surface by now.

"Walter," Landry yelled back up to the control room. "End the lockdown."

* * *

As soon as the lockdown ended and the beaming jammers retracted to only cover the stargate, a small team beamed down into the SGC in the equipment rooms where the beaming jammers were kept. With the guards now gone, the three man team quickly accessed the equipment and bypassed the control room link. They completely deactivated the jamming devices then activated their transport coins, returning back to orbit before anyone was the wiser.

* * *

"Yes, sir," the technician's voice came back over the intercom, acknowledging the order as he activated the controls and ended the lockdown.

"Alright everyone," Landry said to the SG teams still standing at attention. "Return to your quarters and stay there until called for. There are probably some angry people up top…let's not give them an opportunity for a confrontation. Once I receive orders I'll…"

Suddenly the stargate disappeared from behind Landry, whisked away, no doubt, via one of the orbiting 304s.

"Son of a bitch," Landry grumbled. "We've still got teams offworld."

"Sir?" Reynolds asked, ready to do something.

"Fall out," Landry said with a sigh and a shake of his head.

"Yes, sir," Reynolds said dejectedly. "You heard the General. Back to your bunks."

The gateroom slowly emptied, with Landry the last person out. He looked back at where the stargate had been and shook his head. "Dear God, what have we come to?"

* * *

Three days later Landry sat in Hammond's backyard with a beer and a hotdog in his hands as the former Generals sat and looked at the campfire before them and the stars overhead. Landry and the others had been spared official reprimand, but the President had shut down the SGC and permanently closed Cheyenne Mountain. Landry had opted for retirement rather than reassignment…not that he'd been offered one. Most of the SGC personnel hadn't been pegged for reassignment to the new I.O.A. SGC in Egypt either, and Landry felt it best not to try and ride a dead horse.

"I wonder where he is now," Hank said, leaning back in his lawn chair.

"I don't know," Hammond said, the only other person seated around the campfire. "I don't think he'd ask the Tok'ra for help."

"No, I don't think he would either," Landry echoed. "Maybe he went to Dakara."

"What's on Dakara?" Hammond asked.

Landry glanced over at his fellow retired General. "That's right, you don't know. Bra'tac's new Jaffa Empire is based on Dakara."

"Bra'tac's always been a close ally," Hammond said evenly. "But I have a feeling Jack's not going to be in the mood for company right now."

"I wouldn't blame him," Landry agreed. "He got the rug pulled out from under him pretty hard."

"That he did," Hammond said, raising his beer bottle up towards the stars. Landry mirrored the informal salute.

Hammond picked a star and looked up in its direction. "God speed, Jack."

* * *

Atlantis emerged from hyperspace with a flash and immediately throttled up its realspace engines to counter the drift speed between the Dune system and the water-world beneath them. It amounted to only a few thousand miles per hour and a few long seconds of thrust, but it brought them down towards the planet's atmosphere quicker than usual.

"We're here," John noted to himself from the control chair. He'd slid back into the seat only moments ago and found himself experiencing a sense of déjà vu, realizing this must have been the same approach the Alterrans had originally made when they brought Atlantis to the Pegasus galaxy.

The atmosphere began licking at the city's shields as Sheppard searched for the previous landing coordinates not far off the mainland that was just now coming across the horizon. The city's computer highlighted a specific patch of ocean and John set course to put them down in the same spot where they'd first found the city.

The descent was easy enough. John didn't rush it and lazily brought Atlantis down over the ocean, hovering in place over the surface before gently letting it sink into the waves. The city's buoyancy brought it back up after a brief moment below the water line and Sheppard let it settle for a full minute before disengaging the shields and powering down the chair.

"_Home sweet home_," he said as he walked out of the chair room.

* * *

"_We all set?_" he asked when he got back to the control room.

"_Yes_," Elizabeth confirmed alongside Ryan, Kyle, and Matt Stevenson. "_We were just waiting for you. Care to give the order?_"

"_Thank you, I think I will_," John said, stepping up behind the control room technicians, most of whom were Asgard.

"Activate the beacon."

One of the Asgard meekly togged the glowing Ancient controls, seemingly unconcerned with what they were doing.

A small icon began to pulse on one of the consoles, indicating that Altantis's emergency beacon was active. The rest of Atlantis's allies had already been informed of the plan so they wouldn't respond to the beacon and rush to the city's aid. The only ones Atlantis wanted to come were the Wraith…and come they knew they would. En mass.

Sheppard glanced up at the ceiling and whispered. "_Come and get it_."


End file.
